Horses and Ranch Hands
by Stryder2008
Summary: Sam Campbell is called home for his father's funeral. His family's ranch is a wreck; an unknown corporation is threatening a hostile takeover. Dean Winchester finds him beaten in a bar one night. Sam finds he's attracted to the unknown man and it appears to be mutual. Dean is running from a violent past that is catching up with him. M/M Unrelated CompleteAU Hurt!Dean Hurt!Sam SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out. _

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried. _

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter One:**

_Horses and Ranch Hands_

The Bar S Ranch was one of the oldest and largest working cattle Ranches in the great state of Texas. Located outside of San Antonio it was reasonably close to large metropolitan amenities and the open range alike. Making it unique by today's standards. It also happened to be one of the most successful cattle and horse ranches in the continental United States. The massive property extended for more than a half a million acres with several small houses for the hands and their families along with the large family estate set in the center of an oasis. Their primary trade was Black Angus cattle, but the old man had started into the Appendix quarter horses about ten years ago. That had been a very lucrative turn for the ranch. Breeding the highest quality horses and then training them to win in the arena as well as being able to work the cattle on the large plains they roamed.

Samuel Campbell had loved growing up on the palatial ranch. He'd spent most of his summers cruising through the brush looking for lost cows or camping beneath millions of bright stars while running the cattle drives with his father and the other hands in the spring and the fall. But he'd always wanted more out of life than just being a cowboy. _Although, there was nothing wrong with that life, he'd just wanted more. _He'd always loved school and the thought of not going on past high school had never really been an option for him. The choice had nearly devastated his father. Sam had had an amazing connection with the horses. The ones that he'd trained had always brought in the highest sales and were the most solid at working the rangy cattle.

Sam had been born last, his older sister Gwen had married a man that she'd met down at the local watering hole. This particular bar was one of three in the entire town and it was one that Sam had been told to stay out of by the men working on his father's ranch. It was full of the toughest stock in Texas and it was a good place to find trouble, if that was what a guy was looking for. The guy Gwen had married was a jackass in Sam's opinion. Christian had only wanted the money that came with the Campbell name, not the woman. He and Sam had gone the rounds on more occasions than the young man cared to remember about how to properly treat a woman.

The loss of their own mother to rapid onset of pancreatic cancer when Sam had been two years old, had heavily affected how he treated women. The deadly cancer had gotten into the bones and metastasized before the doctors found it. By the time his mother was diagnosed, she'd had only a few months to live. Their father had been devastated when he'd learned of the disease and the doctor's inability to save the woman he loved.

Sam had learned about monogamous relationships from the devotion his father had shown his mother and had dated his high school sweetheart all through his first three years of college and then she'd up and moved to Washington DC, to pursue a career in medicine. He hadn't gone with her. He'd chosen to stay and continued to pursue his Law degree, but then his father had died and the ranch started falling apart. Gwen didn't have the background to run an operation of that size and her husband was a joke. But despite how much Sam disliked the guy, his sister loved him, so he tolerated Christian's presence.

Sam stared into the large hazy mirror inside the puke green bathroom of the Silver Spur Bar. The smell of stale cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air and his eyes were red-rimmed as he assessed his physical appearance. He leaned forward and placed the palms of his hands on the stained white porcelain of the sink. There was an obnoxious 'plop', 'plop', 'plop' sound emanating from the bottom of the pipes running beneath the counter. The music was really lousy tonight and Sam wondered whether or not just staying home would have been more fun that this place. He groaned and reached up to scrub a hand down his stubbled face. The five-day growth prickly beneath his palm as it pulled at the exhausted expression on his face.

He swallowed his disgust at the image that stared back at him. His blue-green eyes were dull and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He'd allowed his hair to get longer than he generally liked, it made him look a lot younger than his twenty-six years. He sighed and leaned over the sink, dipping his hands into the cool running water before splashing it onto his face. It ran down his skin and dripped off his nose as he reached for a paper towel.

"Can't believe you came back to this fucking town." A deep voice said from his left.

Sam pulled in a long slow breath and leaned against the sink before turning his eyes in the direction of the door. "Jasper." He said casually and stood up causing the other man to look up at him as he straightened to his full height of 6'4. "How're you?" He hadn't seen the guy since the day of their graduation ceremony.

Jasper had been the captain of the baseball team and received a scholarship to play for a collegiate team. He'd also been Sam's one discretion in high school. They'd both gotten drunk at a party and things had gone further than either of them planned. And that's when Jasper Harrison had lost his god-damned mind. He'd been afraid that Sam was gonna _out_ him to the entire school. So he and his buddies had cornered Sam and beat the hell out of him until he was bruised almost beyond recognition and nearly unconscious. To be fair, the guy had brought most of his team to that particular party and Sam had taken down three of them before Jasper got in a lucky blow. But that had been the end of their uneasy friendship.

Sam had never talked to anyone about that night. He was still pretty sure it was just the alcohol that had made him even entertain the idea of kissing Jasper. Because he'd never looked at another man since that night. As he looked at Jasper he could tell that the guy was piss-drunk and looking for a fight and Sam hadn't even been back in town for 24 hours.

"Oh you know…hanging down at the stop-n-go. Some shit doesn't change." He shoved away from the wall and Sam blinked in surprise when he saw the bat drop down from behind Jaspers arm.

"What's going on here Jasper?" He asked as he looked over at the door. The guy wasn't taller than Sam, but he was big enough to do some damage if he got close…and he had that aluminum bat.

"Nothing…just wanted to remind you to keep your fucking faggot mouth shut." He growled out.

The anger was starting to build in his gut at the accusations flying out of the guy's mouth. Sam wasn't drunk enough to have this conversation. "Look Jasper, I'm only here long enough to get my dad's affairs in order." He shifted his weight and reached for a towel before looking back at the other man. "And _that_ was a long time ago."

Jasper's control broke and he lunged at Sam. The bat was flying in several directions at once, making it nearly impossible for Sam to determine where it was coming from. The silver aluminum bat reversed suddenly and caught Sam in the side. He grunted in pain as he doubled over, his opponent taking a moment to grin before striking again. Sam managed to land two pretty nasty blows. Jasper staggered backwards and slammed into the bathroom stall. He roared his anger and lunged with a wild swing…Sam's eyes caught the glint of silver just before it connected with his head. A sudden flair of pain nearly blinded him as his head exploded and his knees went weak. He caught a blurry form shifting again and he knew that if Jasper landed that second blow to his head…he was done.

"What the fu…?" A raspy voice growled. The sounds of scuffling had Sam trying to focus on a third figure that had walked into the bathroom. A moment later Jaspers unconscious body was lowered to the dirty tile floor. "Hey…hey buddy? You okay?" The gentle hand that landed on his shoulder pulled him from the comfort of passive sleep. Sam's gaze was folding in and out of focus as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. As the face leaned over him, with a worried expression appeared to be an angelic face. The deep forest green eyes were shining at him in concern. His sculpted, chiseled face shifting into the strong chin, Greek nose, complete with high cheekbones, and full pouty pink lips. Sam wondered if he'd died and this was some sort of angel sent to escort him across the border. And that was pretty fucked up…he knew that. But the thought flitted through his head anyways.

"You alive, pal?" The deep voice asked as he shifted back onto his heels and gently touched the bloodied wound on the side of Sam's head. He smiled in sympathy as Sam winced at the feather light touch. "Sorry."

Sam tried to form the words, 'that he was okay, of course he was okay'. But nothing seemed to pass his lips. "Alright, lets get you home." The man helped him get slowly to his feet. Sam felt his stomach rebel at the idea of being in a new position.

"Wait…wait." Sam groaned as his head pulsed in pain. He doubled over and wrapped his arms around his mid-section.

"Whoa…easy buddy. You gotta a name?" The man asked as Sam leaned heavily against him. He was surprised to notice that he wasn't leaning too far down. This guy was almost as tall as he was.

"Sam…Sam Campbell." He managed with a bit of difficulty. The words were slurred and it had nothing to do with the limited alcohol he'd drank before walking into the dark green bathroom. He heard the guy chuckle as he carefully pushed the door open.

"Dean Winchester." He answered immediately. "You live around here?" They moved through the dark bar and Dean nodded at the bartender when his eyes flickered up and widened in surprise. "He's okay. I'm just gonna help him get home."

"Hmmm?" Sam said as his eyelids fell shut a few times.

"No..no, no…Sammy, you gotta stay awake man. I don't know where you live." Dean said as he scanned the parking lot for his car. A small smile played at the edges of his lips when he saw the classic car parked under the one streetlight. As they approached the car Dean felt himself taking more and more of the weight as Sam's legs got rubbery. "Come on. You're as big as a fucking house, dude. Carry some of your own weight." He mumbled as he leaned Sam against the car and pulled his keys from the pocket of his leather jacket.

After he managed to get Sam into the back seat he realized that he still didn't know where this guy lived. He blew out an exasperated breath and made an instant decision. Cranking the engine he headed in the direction of the small motel he was staying at. Under any other circumstance he would even think about taking a stranger home with him. But this kid didn't look too good and he'd definitely gotten his ass handed to him by that _son of a bitch_ at the bar.

XXXX

Dean leaned against the counter a cold beer in his hand as he watched the stranger sleeping in his bed. He'd taken Emery to the neighbors place. Mrs. Carson was a sweet old woman whose husband had died last year. She was in love with the gap toothed little boy. The child made friends with every one he met. He smiled at that thought. His son was the light of his life. His bright blue eyes and bright blonde hair had melted the hearts of greater beings than the little old woman that owned this motel.

But he wasn't willing to risk the boy being in the same room with someone Dean didn't know. He looked at the kid on the bed. This Sam character was lanky and he appeared to be somewhere in his twenties. Dean took a step closer and licked his plump lips as he stared at the very good looking and very unconscious man. _This isn't good_. The thought flickered through his head quickly as he set his beer down and grabbed the ice from his freezer along with a warm washcloth. He'd put off cleaning up the blood on Sam's face as long as he could. Dean had hoped that the kid would wake up and he could talk to him a bit. _But no dice_. Sam stayed decidedly and stubbornly unconscious.

"Well…let's get you cleaned up kid." He said as he sank down onto the bed next to Sam. He winced as he got a good look at the long cut just above Sam's left eye. The kid really needed stitches, but Dean knew that taking him to the hospital would be worse for both of them. Whatever had gone down in that bar, it looked like it was something from a long forgotten past and Dean wasn't one for digging into the past. He dabbed gently at the blood and turned to grab a couple of butterfly bandages. Dean carefully pulled the edges of the cut together and placed a small gauze pad over it. He found his fingers lingering on the warm skin of Sam's face longer than was really necessary and he shook his head as he gathered his stuff and wandered back to the kitchen.

Dean sank bonelessly into the chair at the small kitchen table and took a long slow draw on his beer. He wondered if he could find another job soon, since he'd just blown his one chance at an interview. He'd come to Texas because there were a lot of ranches and everyone of them needed good hands. He had an appointment with one of the foreman in the morning. "Ah shit…" he huffed as he realized that he probably wouldn't make it to that appointment. _Especially if Sam didn't come around soon_… His green eyes slid over to the clock on the wall and he shook his head as he took another sip of his beer.

The buzzing of his phone was the next sound that Dean could remember. He groaned internally when his neck protested at the fucked up position he'd fallen asleep in. _There's a reason why we invented the bed._ He thought silently.

It took a moment for his brain to kick in when he didn't feel the bouncing happy bundle of little boy on his lap or the cartoons blaring from the small motel TV. That was when he remembered the whole incident at the bar. He glanced over at the bed and was surprised to find it very empty, though the sheets were messed up and the blanket was thrown back. He stood up, cracking his back in the process, and looked around the room, the sound of the water in the bathroom had him padding over to the door. He knocked quietly and waited for an answer.

The door pulled open instantly and a very tall, very confused young man leaned against the doorframe tiredly. He pointed at the bandage on his head. "You're handiwork?" He asked. His blue-green gaze looking intently at the shorter man. He'd removed his shirt and was currently making it a little hard for Dean to breathe as he leaned against the frame of the bathroom. It was obvious that he spent a fair amount of time in the gym. Since Dean was sure that no one had the right to look that spectacular half clothed in a strangers motel room after getting beat up the night before.

Dean smiled. "Yeah. You look like shit, dude." He wasn't a hundred percent sure that this guy even remembered his flipping name after the activities of the night before. But he knew that he'd be remembering the lanky kid he'd saved from a massive beat down for many years to come. Something about him was sticking in Dean's brain like a dart in a dartboard.

Sam snorted. "We don't know each other well enough for you to say stuff like that, Dean." He said with a smirk.

"Ah, so you _do_ remember my name." He smiled. Dean shifted out of the way as Sam moved to exit the bathroom. He'd cleaned up a bit and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the unruly sable locks. Dean found his eyes raking over the other man looking for any injuries that he might have missed the night before. There was bruising on his ribcage, where Dean assumed he'd taken a swing from the bat, and another along his shoulder blades. But other than that he seemed to be okay…_oh and the massive black eye and the cut on his face._

Dean hadn't exactly been sober when he'd wandered into that restroom so he couldn't be sure if Sam had been this way before or not. But when he'd walked in and saw a man on the floor bleeding from an obvious head wound and another one that was intent on doing far worse damage, it had kicked in Dean's training. He hadn't thought, he'd simply responded to the situation and then he'd found himself responsible for Sam.

Now as he stared at the tall man standing in just a pair of jeans and his bare feet…Dean was questioning the choice to bring Sam back here. He was about three inches taller than Dean himself was. He obviously liked the tanning beds and judging by the muscled chest and the toned abs, he must eat pretty well. His green eyes flashed up and he caught Sam watching him with an amused expression on his face. The mole near Sam's nose was doing nothing to alleviate the uncomfortable pressure Dean was feeling. The other man's eyes were an almond shape and they weren't exactly blue, but they weren't precisely green either. And the color combination was a bit on the intoxicating side. _Okay, Dean…you're sleeping with the next woman who smiles at you._ He thought as he spun around and scrubbed a hand down his face.

"Yeah…I remember your name. Thanks by the way." Sam said as he crossed to the bed and grabbed his sweater, pulling the soft blue material over his head and settling it on his lean hips. He leaned over and grabbed his boots, slipping his stocking covered feet inside. He'd managed to throw those on without Dean noticing. His shirt rode up slightly in the back and Dean found that he needed to walk away for a moment. He settled on heading into the small kitchen and grabbing the coffee and starting to brew a new pot.

Dean snorted. "Guy was gonna smash your head in. Not like I was gonna walk away from that." He swallowed as Sam turned around and pinned him with a serious look.

"Do you turn everything into a joke? Is that some sorta coping mechanism?" Sam tilted his head and waited for an answer while Dean sputtered across from him.

"What? I don't do that." _Yeah, he so 'did' do that…_but he wasn't gonna admit that to this lanky holier than thou…person. Because at the moment Dean just couldn't come up with a better word to describe Sam. He watched as the guy's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he smiled slightly, dimples that were impossibly charming popped out and Dean groaned inwardly.

"Okay…right…" He turned and looked around for his wallet, patting the back pockets of his jeans. The action made the other man smile and he shook his head slightly.

"It's on the table." Dean said quickly. He needed to get this guy back to the bar and out of his life. But a sudden sway in Sam's step had him rushing forward and slipping the taller man's arm over his shoulder. "Come on man, you're not in any condition to drive. How about I take you home and then…" He bit at his lower lip as he tried to think of a solution to the two-car thing.

"Gwen can pick it up." Sam offered instantly solving Dean's dilemma.

Dean wasn't sure why the mention of the woman's name sent a pang of something slicing through his chest as he nodded. He didn't know this guy and it wasn't likely that he was _gonna get to _know this guy.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _This idea wouldn't leave me alone. Maybe it's growing up on a farm myself or maybe it's just the idea of writing a fiction with horses in it…but I thought that two boys from Texas…should meet up in Texas. Dean would end up there because of something in his past and Sam would wind up back there because of family. This is a total AU, so please remember that. Also Please take the time to let me know if you guys are even interested in the direction of this story. It is a M/M between unrelated versions of Sam and Dean, with the occasional OC._

**PLEASE REVIEW: So I know whether to post the other chapters.**


	2. Bar S Ranch

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter Two**

_Bar S Ranch_

Sam watched in amazement as the large petrified trees that served at the posts for his family's entryway came into sight. He loved this place, sometimes he forgot how impressive it was. The dust was swirling lazily in the morning breeze and he smiled at the sight of his home. Dean was humming along to some classic rock song that Sam couldn't place. His eyes slid to the side and he took in the appearance of the man that had saved his life. Dean appeared to be around thirty or so. He was tall and well built; it appeared as though he liked to stay in shape. He liked leather, classic cars, and music. The man had walked into a bathroom in a dingy bar, in Texas for crying out loud, and stepped into help a total stranger, so he was a Good Samaritan…and probably a good person all around.

He'd then taken responsibility for this person and protected Sam until he was at least conscious again. Then he'd offered to make sure that the stranger made it home safe, even if that meant driving him there himself. Dean seemed like a really good guy. It didn't hurt that he might have been the most classically handsome man that Sam had ever laid eyes on. Strong jawline with an aquiline nose, dark blonde hair, and large wide eyes the color of grass after it rains. Sam had noticed that he also had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and full plump lips that would make the women Sam knew cry in envy. In short? Dean looked like a damn male model and he was one of the most genuinely nice people Sam had ever met. _ How the hell does that happen?_ He wondered to himself.

The old Chevy Impala rumbled up the large dirt road. A slight twitch in Dean's jaw was the only indication that he didn't like the fact that his precious car was getting dusty. As they cleared the last large hill and the house came into view Sam heard the intake of breath and he knew that Dean now 'got it'. Sam was more than just rich…he was flat out wealthy. The house was enormous, far bigger than necessary for just Sam and his sister when they'd been growing up. Large pillars of river rock extended along a massive front porch that looked like something out of the life styles for the rich and famous. Massive bay windows spread across the entire front of the home, white drapes billowing in the soft morning breeze. Several large Ford pickups were parked in the large round about parking lot. A sprawling green lawn extended acres in several directions. The whole place just reeked of money and Sam saw the moment when Dean put together that _he_ lived here.

Sam wasn't sure where the lie originated, but he just couldn't stand the look of shock on Dean's face. "I just work here man…" He sputtered. He held his hands up in a plaintive gesture and waited for the other man's response.

Dean's green slid over to him and rolled to a stop and put the car in park. "Oh yeah?" He looked around again and smiled. "Nice job."

Sam swallowed and nodded as he pulled the handle on the door. "Yeah…hey, do you like horses?"

"Love 'em." Dean said immediately.

"Well then you gotta see ours. We've got some of the best Appendix Quarter horses in the world." He hauled himself out of the car and started walking. Sam assumed that Dean would be following him, when he glanced over his shoulder he saw that the other man about five steps behind him. His hands shoved into his the pockets of his jeans and a smile pulling at the edges of his eyes.

Sam followed the cobbled path down toward the barn. It was almost as big as the house with an indoor riding arena, a round pen for working the colts, and large box stalls for the mares and stallions. Some of the geldings that were earning on the cutting circuits were also stabled here. The rest of the herd was running on the range in the hills. Better for the young horses to learn their balance like a wild horse and then be brought in for training.

"We have over four hundred head on the ranch at the moment. These…" He gestured toward the long row of stalls. "Are the performance horses, mares that are about to foal, and the five Stallions that are the base for the breeding program." He watched as Dean's face lit up and he walked over to one of the stalls. The smell of clean shavings and the distinctive horse aroma flooded Dean's nose as he watched the mare and her newborn. He brought his arms up and rested them on top of the door as he peered in at the mare and the days old colt at her side.

The large bay watched them suspiciously for a moment before Dean extended his hand into the stall and she took a hesitant step toward him. In less than five seconds she'd moved so that he run his hand gently down her silky coat and along her neck. The foal only took a moment of debate before he too moved and reached his tiny nose out to sniff at the new comer.

Sam watched the whole thing in fascination. He'd been the only one that could get up to Diamond's Run…the mare wasn't known for being friendly. But she had the most talented foals and was the most consistent in bearing strong healthy colts that seemed to reign over their circuit. Dean hummed softly in appreciation of the shiny coat. It was obvious that this ranch valued their horses and that they took immaculate care of them. He wondered if the people he had that interview with were as careful…

"How long have you been around horses?" Sam asked as he stepped up and leaned over the top of the door, his arms resting in a mirror image of Dean's. The foal switched from Dean to Sam and touched his muzzle to the long fingers hanging loosely over the edge.

A snort from the other man had Sam looking over at him in question. "My whole life…or at least it feels that way."

Sam found himself more and more curious about this man that had stepped in and saved his life the previous evening. He wanted to know everything about Dean. Where had he come from? What was he doing in Texas? How did he know so much about horses and ranches? "So…since you saved my life…or at least my ass last night…would you accept an invitation to dinner?" He swallowed as he waited for an answer.

Dean looked over at him and furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion.

"The ranch is having a barbeque. Thought you might like to join in. Bobby makes the best ribs this side of the border." Sam said quickly as a way of explaining the off-handed invitation. He'd have to remember to warn them to treat him like one of the hands and not the owner. It wouldn't be that unusual of a request. Sam used to ask to be treated the same as the workers when he'd been younger. He didn't like the idea of separating the guys who owned the land and the guys who worked the land. It seemed unfair.

He could see the hesitation on Dean's face as he considered the offer. Sam wasn't sure what his hang up was, but he desperately wanted to spend more time with the mysterious stranger that had come into his life. "Uh…there'll be beer?"

Dean snorted and turned a brilliant smile in Sam's direction. "You had me at ribs…but…uh…" He licked his lips as he debated on how to tell Sam about Emery. "Uh…Sam…I have a son…I can't leave him with the neighbor again."

Sam's mouth popped open and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't considered that Dean might have family here with him. "Wow…that's great, bring him too and you're _wife_." He tagged the last bit on in an attempt to learn more about Dean's family life.

A small smile played at the edges of Dean's lips. "No wife…just a son."

"What's his name?" Sam was surprised at the weight that lifted off his chest when Dean said he wasn't tied to a wife. His unnaturally strong attraction to Dean was disconcerting to say the least.

"Emery. He's six." It was obvious in Dean's voice that he worshipped the little boy.

Sam grinned at that. Gwen had two little girls and they were a real handful. "Six going on thirty, right?"

"Yup." Dean's answer was short but full of so much emotion that Sam found his eyes wandering back over to the man leaning next to him.

"So…what is it that you do, Dean?" Sam asked as he pushed away from the stall door and started walking toward the stallion's pen. He wanted Dean to see these horses, they were some of the most amazing animals that Sam had ever laid eyes on and he wanted to show them off to this man. It was obvious that Dean had an appreciation for quality horses.

The silence that followed had Sam glancing over his shoulder as Dean shoved away and followed him. "Kinda between jobs at the moment." He said softly. His eyes were down cast and Sam could tell that this wasn't a subject the other man wanted to pursue. But Sam had always done what he wanted…so he pushed.

"Can you ride?" That had the other man looking up at him surprise.

"Yeah." Dean answered hesitantly and waited for Sam to finish the odd line of questioning. He was trying not to stare at Sam's ass as he walked a few feet in front of him. The long walkway in the barn had perfect lighting and it was accentuating the long lean legs of the man leading him.

"Hey Sam?" A voice called from the bright end of the alley interrupting Dean's fascination with Sam's legs. An older man, probably in his late fifties stepped into the shadows and Dean stopped moving instantly. "That damn kid didn't show for his interview…so we're back to square one."

Sam blinked twice. "Bobby…this is Dean." He gestured toward the body directly behind him and shot Bobby a warning look. The older man simply shrugged and stepped forward with his hand extended.

"Bobby Singer…" The old ball cap that the man was wearing was pulled low over his eyes, but he had a power about him that spoke volumes. He was in charge and he liked it that way. The handshake was firm but not crushing as Dean reached out and clasped hands with the older man.

Dean shook his hand. "Dean Winchester."

Bobby's eyebrows went up. "You're the kid that was supposed to be here at 7am sharp." He said it like Dean had just killed a man.

"Uh…" The name and address finally slammed home and Dean dropped the other man's hand quickly. "Yes sir…I was brining one of your guys back after a rough night at the…" Dean looked over at Sam. He wasn't sure if Sam was supposed to have been at a bar last night and the last thing that he wanted was to get the guy in trouble with his boss. "…in town."

Bobby finally _looked_ at Sam and then sucked in a breath of disapproval. The black eye and the large cut on his forehead weren't going to look too good when he met with the estate lawyer later that week.

Sam's own eyes blew wide at the information. Dean hadn't said a word to him about missing a job interview in the process of making sure _he_ got home okay. He felt his respect for the man go up a few notches, as if it wasn't already sky high. "Bobby…sorry. Can I talk to you for a second?" The old man nodded. "Be right back." He said to Dean as he walked away with his foreman.

Dean stared into the large arena and sighed in appreciation. This place really was state of the art. And now that he knew _this_ was where he was supposed to go for that damn interview…he wished he'd made it. There was no way that this man 'Singer' was gonna hire some guy that he thought flaked on his appointment. _Emery would've really liked it here_.

"Sam, what the hell happened to you?" Bobby asked worriedly as soon as they were out of earshot. He was reaching up to gently probe at the wounds on the boy's face, the boy that had grown into the man that Bobby considered a son.

"Got jumped at the bar last night…a misunderstanding." Sam pulled his face out of Bobby's hands when he pressed on a particularly sore spot. "Dean stepped in and got me out of there with my head intact."

Bobby's blue eyes flickered to the guy staring into the arena several yards away. "Some misunderstanding… He stepped in, huh…?"

"Yeah, he did. He missed that interview because he wanted to make sure I got home okay." Sam twisted his body and felt the twinges of pain from the previous night sing through his system. He'd have to remember to crawl into the Jacuzzi later and try to loosen the tight muscles.

"So what've you told this kid?" Bobby said in a gruff voice. He knew from the cool way that he'd been greeted that Sam hadn't told Dean _who_ he was in relation to this ranch.

Sam shrugged. "That I work for you?" He hazarded with a grin.

Bobby rolled his eyes and shook his head at the storyline. "That's never gonna hold up. Especially not right now, Sam. There's too much that needs _your_ attention."

"I don't want him to know that I own the place, Bobby. He's a good guy and I'd like to bring him on. But I don't think he'd accept it if he thought it was charity from the owner of the place. He's got a lot of pride." Sam sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Please just make this happen, Bobby."

"Idgit…" Bobby said fondly and Sam knew that he'd won. The old man would make sure that the other hands knew to treat him like an employee and as long as his sister stayed in town with that idiot husband of hers…he'd be fine.

They turned and walked back toward where Dean was waiting patiently. He'd turned around and was now standing at another stall petting the sable colored gelding that was munching happily on his grain. "You still want that interview kid?"

Dean's green gaze flashed up in surprise. He pulled his hand back and shoved it into his pocket. "Yes sir." He answered quickly.

"Great, well then don't let the dust settle on yer boots…lets go talk." Bobby started walking and Dean looked over at Sam in question. He smiled and shrugged as he gestured for Dean to follow the foreman.

"Catch ya later Dean." He said easily as the two disappeared around the corner into Bobby's office.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _So the response to this one was luke warm, so I am going to post the second chapter and see if it gets any better response. If not then I'm probably going to abandon this one and move onto the stories you guys are reading. Thanks for giving it a chance though. :)_

**Please Review: If you're at all interested in seeing it continued.**


	3. New Hire

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 3**

_New Hire_

Dean swung his long legs into the Impala settling into her buttery soft leather seats and pulled the heavy metal door shut. A sigh escaped his lips as he fired up the engine, the hum of perfectly tuned pistons making him smile before he put her in drive. The meeting with Bobby Singer had gone well. He'd apparently managed to impress the old guy with his knowledge of general ranch operations and horses in general. He wasn't being hired to train them or anything…not yet, but he was being given a job and small place to stay while he worked for The Bar S Ranch…and he couldn't hope for more than that at the moment. Emery would have a stable place to live…and him? Well, he'd be able to stay off the radar out here…and that becoming more and more important.

He knew that the story hadn't hit the south yet, or he never would have been able to stay anywhere near an actual town. But since everything had happened in Chicago…he at least stood a shot at staying anonymous out here.

A shiver ran through his spine at the thought of what, and who, he was hiding from. If they found him? He was dead, pure and simple…and Emery? He'd be in the wind for sure. Dean wouldn't allow that to happen. He'd made a promise and he was going to keep that promise…keep the boy safe…no matter the personal cost.

He pulled in a shaky breath and turned onto the two-lane highway leading away from the ranch. His thoughts drifted to his own past and he bit his lip in distaste. The life he'd grown up in wasn't one that he'd wish on another living soul. It'd been hard and he'd been forced into situations that he wouldn't subject dog to. But it had also made him tough and pragmatic. Dean knew from experience that he could survive almost anything…because he had. He'd managed to turn his life around before things started going on his permanent record…but he'd done things…things he wasn't proud of; things that could land him behind bars for the rest of his life.

An image of the little boy with the bright blue eyes and wide toothy grin swam before his eyes and he exhaled slowly. Emery wasn't one of those mistakes.

He pulled into the motel parking lot and grinned when he saw the little boy playing on the small swing set in the back of the place. The boy's laughter was filling the air with pure joy. A small sandbox beneath the old swing set was filled with colorful blocks, which Dean assumed the old lady must have brought out.

Mrs. Carson was sitting quitely in a lime green plastic lawn chair with her neon looking knitting project spread out over her lap. The gnarled old fingers were working the yarn with a practiced ease that spoke of years performing the craft.

He sat in the car for moment taking in the sight of the little boy, he watched as his son ran between the long silver slide and the swings…Emery looked like he was trying to escape something that must have been tragically scary in his young mind. Dean shifted, reaching down; he turned off the car and climbed out. He popped his back and reached for the bag on the passenger seat, he'd stopped for a couple of burgers on his way back to the motel. It was one of the things he and Emery did together. They'd sit down on a Monday night and eat a burger before watching some television and reading from an old rock magazine that Dean toted around.

Reading had become a thing for them. The little boy had handed him several books over the past few months, the Velveteen Rabbit, Dr. Seuss's, The Cat in the Hat, and A Christmas Carol…Dean wasn't sure where Emery had found that last one…but he'd read it to the kid just the same. Most of the books were ones that Dean had never read as a child, so he would do all the funny little voices of the characters as he read to the little boy. But what Emery really loved was when Dean sang the songs in the classic rock magazine. Dean knew he wasn't the best singer, hell he probably sang so far off key that he was actually scarring the kid for life…_could you make a person tone deaf?_ He wondered…but the little boy loved it…so Dean sang.

The rocks ground beneath his work boots as he stepped around the Impala. "What's chasing you, buddy?" He called.

"Dad!" Emery yelled as he slid to a stop that would make a professional baseball player proud. Before turning to sprint at his father in the lumbering steps of a child just out of their toddler years.

Dean dropped to his knees and enveloped the little boy in a hug inhaling the intoxicating scent of his son. He smelled like grilled cheese sandwiches and dirt…in short? He smelled like a happy child.

"You finished with yer business now son?" The little old woman asked as she pulled herself to rickety legs and stumbled toward him as she reached for her cane. The wind was picking at her one-piece dress and her slightly blue hair was glinting in the Texas sun. Her hands were covered in the spidery blue veins of the elderly, but her grey eyes were as sharp as an eagle.

He nodded and stood up with the squirming bundle of little boy. "Yes, ma'am." They started walking toward the doors of their respective motel rooms. "I also go that job." She stopped and looked at him.

"Does that mean you two are leaving?" She didn't sound too happy about that prospect. But Dean had been really honest about his intentions when they'd moved into this place. Besides he didn't want to over stay his welcome or put the woman in any danger.

"Yeah. The job came with a place to live. And frankly the drive out there would be way too long to make it every morning." He watched as she took that in and smiled before entering her own room and pushing the door shut behind her. If Dean didn't know better, he'd swear that she looked almost disappointed by his good fortune.

XXXX

Sam wandered into the large kitchen and riffled through the stainless steel double-door fridge looking for something to eat. The pain in his head was throbbing and his side was aching for some down time. But he was young and his stomach was pissed about its empty status. He passed on the left over lasagna in there from Mrs. Singer. Ellen always left food in his fridge. She was worried he wouldn't eat anything but salad and chicken if she didn't.

He was freaking starving, plus he'd managed to get some Ibuprofen in his system so he was making him feel a little better, but he wouldn't be if he didn't get something in his stomach. The creak of the large wooden kitchen door had him turning briefly towards the patio. Bobby wandered in with his coffee cup; it had a picture of a white chicken in a sombrero surrounded by hundreds of other chickens without sombreros…and the words 'Juan in a million' plastered on the side in bold green letters. Sam had given the mug to the foreman when he'd been about thirteen years old. He'd thought it was hilarious…so had Bobby.

"I hired that kid." He said without looking at Sam.

"Uh…good. He seemed to know his stuff." Sam didn't want Bobby to know how much he'd been hoping that Dean would pass Bobby's tough guy interview stage. Yeah, he could have gotten Dean hired without Bobby giving him any flack…but Sam really wanted _him_ to bring something unique to the ranch. Something besides his uniquely nice ass or his intoxicating presence. _Jesus…what is it with this guy?_ Sam wondered silently. He was starting to feel a little stalkerish in his thoughts; they kept swinging back to the green eyed man whose bed he'd slept in…alone…_after Jasper's dick move._

Bobby nodded and headed straight for the coffee machine. "He does. So, you wanna bring me up to speed on what happened to you last night? You look like stomped over crap, kid." He'd seen the kid come home looking like this only once when Sam had been in High School. As a matter of fact he'd spent the night in the hospital worrying about whether or not Sam would wake up. He had, but the kid wouldn't say who'd jumped him. Bobby had some guesses, but he'd never gotten a straight answer about that night.

Sam felt a pang of frustration that Bobby knew something about his mysterious savior that he himself did not. "Uh…rough reunion with a guy from high school." He inhaled and then shifted uncomfortably as his ribs expanded painfully.

"Hell of a reunion." The older man shot back as he filled his precious coffee cup before setting it down on the granite counter. He pulled a giant gooey cinnamon roll from a large glass plate on the counter. One that Sam had apparently missed and then grabbed his mug as he headed over to the large wooden table pulling out a chair and settling into it. "Alright spill kid, what do you wanna know?" Bobby asked as he sipped the black liquid. His gaze travelled up to the larger man in expectation. He knew what Sam wanted to know…everything as long as it pertained to one…Dean Winchester.

A choked squeak escaped Sam's lips and he felt like he'd just been cornered. "Uh…" He hadn't thought that he'd been that transparent about his interest in Dean. Apparently he had been.

"Settle down boy…I've known about you for twenty years." Bobby said as he leaned back and stared at the shocked expression on Sam's face. He'd been waiting to catch the idgit off guard with his keen powers of observation…but he hadn't thought that it'd happen because of some new hire. And he had no intention of going soft on this Dean character, because Sam had the hots for him. That kid was gonna earn his damn keep…just like any other employee Bobby hired. He didn't play favorites. Hell, he'd worked Sam harder than any hired hand the ranch had ever employed and it hadn't hurt the kid any.

"You've known _what_ about me for years…" Sam asked in a light voice that was barely masking the rising panic. He'd figured that Bobby hadn't been any the wiser to his 'indiscretion' or the way he'd stared at the employed hands that were in particularly good shape. Sam had always just thought that it was because of an appreciation for their work ethic…Bobby, it seemed, had known better. And it appeared that the old man couldn't give a rat's ass.

Bobby loved that damn boy with all his heart. When he'd married Ellen, she'd brought with her a daughter from a previous husband that had passed away suddenly. Bobby had fallen in love with the little girl and raised her as his own, Jo…she was off at college now, but he considered her like his own kid…her and Sam. "I _know_…Jesus kid are ya gonna make me say it?"

Sam balked at that and shook his head sharply. The sudden stab of pain had him leaning against the counter waiting for his head to stop pounding. He made a grab for the rolls, hoping to downplay the sudden shift in his equilibrium. If Bobby had noticed, he kept it to himself. "…No…I…just didn't…"

"Oh for hell's sake, Sam…settle down, it's not like you killed a man. You like guys and gals." He chuckled. "Doesn't make me love you any less, boy."

Sam swallowed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. The long strands falling gently across his eyes and tickling at his nose. He tried to force a smile onto his lips as his heart raced around in his chest like a jackrabbit.

"You need to hit up Jameson and take care of that mop you call hair." Bobby said with a raised eyebrow. He reached out and grabbed the newspaper flipping it open to the business section. His hand froze when he read the headline. _Bar S Ranch in Financial Trouble?_ He scanned the article and his fingers clenched around his coffee mug in anger.

_The ranch, which has been one of the most stable in the history of Texas, is now suffering after the death…_yada yada yada…_a meeting has been set between the executer of the estate, Samuel Michael Campbell and foreign business tycoon Alistair Zanuck. This meeting is allegedly to discuss the possible sale of the ranch to the Russian. Zanuck is one of the most successful Investment Bankers in the business. He has offices in New York, Chicago, L.A., Moscow, and he wants to add Texas to the mix._ Blah blah blah… Right below the article was some information about a cartel ring and an enormous drug bust that had gotten several agents killed and was bringing heat from overseas…Columbia it looked like. Bobby ignored the article and inhaled deeply, his hand running over his short red beard in frustration.

Sam stared at Bobby as his face changed several colors and ended in an angry shade of red. "Bobby?" Sam asked, his concern peaking as he stepped closer to the seething man. His blue eyes almost hidden beneath the ball cap as he started to read the article to Sam.

It was worse than he'd imagined. Sam listened as the New York Times basically told the world that his father's legacy was in danger. He shook his head as that tugged at his own deep seated feelings of inadequacy and he sank down next to the foreman. He swallowed and stared at the half eaten cinnamon roll…his appetite long gone. "So…what now?"

Bobby snorted and slammed the paper back on the table in a crumpled mess. "Now?" He repeated as he picked his coffee back up. "Now we kick his lily livered ass all over Texas."

Sam's eyebrows shot up at that and he felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips. "Lily livered?"

"What? You're from Texas, you know what that means…don't give that shit." Bobby said in an accusatory voice. He reached up and tilted the brim of his hat up and stared at Sam with intense blue eyes.

"Whoa…Yeah I know what it means, Bobby. Just never thought I'd hear a _real_ person use it in a sentence." He bit his lips together to keep from smiling; it hurt like hell to smile. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit. Call me when the new hire gets back, I'll show him where he's staying." Sam stood up as Bobby merely grunted an acknowledgement. He turned back toward the table before disappearing into the massive house. "Oh and Bobby?" The other man glanced up at him. "Remember that I'm just another worker when Dean's around, okay?"

Bobby huffed. "That's a bad idea, Sam."

"Please, just do it." Sam said. He turned his best puppy eyes on the surrogate father and watched as Bobby's defenses fell, one by one. _Gotcha…_he thought triumphantly.

"Fine…but don't come crying to me when this all blows up in yer face." He said grudgingly.

Sam shot a brilliant smile at him. The dimples making him look like a ten year old again. "Thanks." He almost made it to the stairs before Bobby called after him.

"Hey, take a look at Eagle when you get a chance…he's been favoring his front left leg."

"Got it." Sam answered as he disappeared up the split staircase.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _All I can say is WOW, your response to this chapter humble me. Thank you for reviewing and letting me know that there is an audience for this type of story. It's outside of the type I normally write, so I wasn't sure. But THANK YOU so much taking a moment and leaving a response. Thank you to Dark Lilith1987, Elma1972, apieceofcake, ajaali, redyellowgreenandblue, redcheeks28, LeeMarieJack, Mb64, Grifter5280, and several others that left guest reviews. THANK YOU GUYS. _

_So because you are interested I am posting the next chapter today. _

**Please Review: They keep me motivated and they only take a moment.**


	4. Neighbors

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 4**

_Neighbors_

Emery stared out the large window from the back seat of the Impala. He was holding a bright green plastic dinosaur that resembled the T-Rex from Toy Story against his chest; his small head bobbing in time to the song on the radio. 'Renegade' by Styx, drifting through the car in gently rolls of guitar and melody.

Dean smiled as he looked in the rearview mirror, the song; one of his favorites had him humming within minutes. The classic rock song was one of the few things that he remembered from his childhood. Okay, so he remembered a few other things, but this was one of the very few that didn't have awful memories of his upbringing attached to it. He shuddered and gripped he steering wheel tighter.

"Dad?" Emery's small voice cut through the music and Dean reached down to lower the volume.

"Yeah, kiddo?" His eyes flickered to the road again as the turn-off for the Bar S ranch came into view. It was after six o'clock and the sun was sitting so that it reflected painfully off his window, his squinted and reached for his sunglasses.

"Will I have any friends?" His voice was hopeful as he ran his tiny fingers over the beloved toy and stared at his father's reflection.

Dean's heart sank. There weren't any children at the ranch…at least none that he knew of. "I don't know buddy…guess we'll have to wait and see." The little boy's blonde head nodded resolutely and he turned back toward the side window. They fell into silence and the song finished out before another ballad took its place.

The dusty road was shorter than he remembered. Dean wasn't sure if it was actually the road or the fact that he was both anxious and nervous to see Sam again. He couldn't afford to get involved with anyone. He wasn't even sure if he _could_ have friends…his life was so complicated…and dangerous.

If these people found out what he'd…_no, I am not thinking about that right now. Concentrate on the road, Dean._ Guilt poured though him and his heart sank at what he'd done to get away. _Don't thing about that._ He thought silently…he'd done what he had to. He glanced back at Emery and his jaw jumped in agitation…_and I'd do it again._

The black Chevy crested the rolling hills and he swallowed nervously as the large house loomed in the distance. He swung the car off toward the barn, since that's where Mr. Singer had told him to go this afternoon.

A large black Yukon sat in the driveway and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. It was an unconscious reaction to seeing the SUV…the same type of vehicle that he'd been seeing his entire life…but this one probably wasn't armored. He pulled up, putting the lever in park before helping Emery out of the back seat. The child clutched the toy more tightly against his chest and reached out for Dean's hand.

They walked toward the large barn. The smell of the wooden ships mixed with the damp dirt that made up the footing in the arena assaulted Dean's nose at the same time. He pulled in a long slow breath, his eyelids dropping closed in pleasure. "Dad…this place is real big." The child said softly as they entered through the large double doors of the indoor riding arena.

"It's pretty cool, huh?" Dean's voice was tight as he blinked a couple of times, allowing his eyes to adjust to the difference in the light. A man on a horse in the center of the arena pulled his full attention and he couldn't help but stare openly.

A large gleaming black stallion was executing flawless reining patterns and Dean found that he couldn't tear his gaze away. The muscles on the animal's shoulders bunched as it sat back on its hocks and spun in one of the tightest pirouette turns he'd ever witnessed.

And there in the center of the stallions back was…Sam. The animal had to be close to 17hh, because otherwise the ridiculously tall man would have his long legs dragging in the dirt. Sam's face was determined; sweat dripping from his temples as he expertly maneuvered the horse through the end of the pattern with a beautiful rollback that sent Dean's eyebrows into his hairline in surprise.

Sam was good. Probably better than _he_ was.

Emery pointed at the horse and grinned. "Horsey!" He squealed excitedly. Sam's eyes flashed in their direction and his face split into a wide grin that brought out deep dimples making Dean's breath catch in his chest. The little boy wriggled his fingers out of Dean's hand and ran to the fence crawling up so he could get a better look.

"Dean." Sam said easily as he walked the glistening animal over toward them. The enormous stallion dropped his head and snuffled at the child's hair in interest. Emery giggled.

Dean noticed that Sam's left eye was a deep purple-black color and there was a far better bandage, than the one _he'd_ fashioned in the motel, covering the cut above the other man's eye. "This must be Emery?" His blue-green eyes flickered up for confirmation, which Dean easily answered with a slight nod. "Hey kiddo…this is Too Tidy War Eagle…" He reached down and patted the stallion's sleek neck. The horse tossed his head and then settled back into his previous position.

The little boy snorted. "That's a weird name." He said honestly as he ran his fingers over the soft muzzle of the stallion.

"I know right?" Sam answered easily. "I call him Eagle." He leaned forward like he was telling the child a secret. "The other one is his 'official name'. But he doesn't like it…too long." Emery giggled and turned sparkling blue eyes toward Dean.

"Come pet the horsey, daddy." His small body was vibrating with sheer joy as he waved his father forward.

Dean smiled and stepped toward the fence…and Sam. His gaze lingered on the other man's smile for longer than was really necessary before he reached up to let the horse smell him. The stallion simply dropped his head into Dean's opened palm expecting some sort of treat to be there. "He's a 'Too Tidy' baby, right?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Uh…yeah. How'd you know?"

Dean shrugged. "Well the name kinda gave it away…" Sam laughed at that. "And he moves like his great grand-sire."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that'd do it, right? Really know your stuff don't ya…" Winchester nodded and Sam stepped off the stallion in a practiced move, loosening the girth with a single pull of the leather. The horse blew out a grateful puff of air and swatted at an errant fly with his long tail. "So I see you got the job…"

"Wouldn't be here otherwise." Dean answered quickly.

Sam wasn't sure why, but the comment hit a little deeper than it should have. A part of him was hoping that the guy _wanted_ to catch up with _him_ again. "Well, I think Bobby's in his office if you wanna let him know you're here." He started walking the horse toward the Iron Gate before turning back toward them. "Can he help me put Eagle away?" Sam was pointing at Emery, who turned huge hopeful eyes in his father's direction.

Dean shrugged. "If you don't think he'll be in the way…"

"Nope, I'd love the help." Sam shot back as he pushed the gate open. The little boy was sprinting toward him, his forgotten toy left in the dirt near Dean's feet.

"Okay…just let me know if…"

"I will." Sam looked at the grinning child and then glanced up at Dean. "And I won't need to." He reached down and lifted the child onto the back of the horse, who flicked its tail and followed Sam like a puppy dog out of the arena.

"I guess I'll just go find Mr. Singer then…" Dean mumbled with a shrug to no one but the empty arena. He reached down and grabbed the toy before heading in the direction of the offices.

XXXX

Sam drove the four-wheeler toward the house on the outskirts of the property. It was a newer duplex style and up until four hours ago both sides had been empty. But after learning that Dean had taken the job, Sam had headed out there with some of his own belongings and claimed the side that wouldn't belong to Winchester and his son. Just over the rise was the larger home where Bobby and Ellen lived. The foreman's wife had happily agreed to keep an eye on the little boy while Dean worked. She'd been lonely since Jo had left for school so this would give her someone to cart around again.

The double-sided home was decently sized. Each side having three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms and a small kitchen with a living room. Plus the real bonus with this particular home was that it had a large fire pit complete with a brick-grilling surface in the back.

Bobby had rolled his eyes and told Sam that he thought this whole plan was crazy when he'd told the old man that he was moving out here for the foreseeable future. Sam had simply shrugged and packed his essentials. All the homes for the hands were fully furnished, since most of the workers that showed up on the ranch weren't packing much more than their boots.

Dean was following him in his car. He'd finally convinced Emery that he couldn't ride on the ATV with Sam…but there had been some whining involved and finally Dean had just put his foot down and the little boy simply nodded. It was obvious that the two had a very special relationship and Sam found that he was desperate to learn more about the small Winchester family. Where had they come from? Why were they in Texas? And most of all…how did Sam keep them here? He ignored the fact that he himself was contemplating leaving at the end of the month.

Sam pulled up in front of the brick home and cut the engine as he stepped off. He heard the car's engine die as Dean parked and the metal creak of the door as it swung open. Dean looked at the sleeping child in the back seat; he bit his lower lip and looked up at Sam. The other man wandered in his direction when he didn't immediately grab the little boy.

Dean pointed at the sleeping child and Sam couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. "There's a bed inside…" He whispered. The other man nodded and gently gathered up the sleeping boy. He followed Sam into the house.

Once they'd laid the little guy down and pulled the door shut, Sam helped Dean get the rest of their bags fro the car. He was surprised to find that Dean had one and the little boy had two. "Is this it?" Sam asked as he set the bags down on the rug in the living room.

The other man nodded. "Yup, we travel a lot. So I keep it pretty light, it's easier that way." He looked around the small place and smiled. It was clean and the furniture was relatively up to date, not to mention that there was a decent sized flat screen in the corner. He pointed at the TV, "This work?"

Sam nodded. "Uh-huh…Direct TV and everything."

Dean made a face of approval and wandered through the home, stopping in the kitchen to marvel at the gas range and refrigerator. "Are all the homes this nice?" He was eyeing the large microwave and the brightly colored tiled surfaces of the kitchen.

"Yup." Sam answered quickly. Truthfully, he had no idea if all the homes were as up to date as this one. He watched as Dean pulled the cupboards open, eyeing the blank spaces.

"Uh…I've got food…if you don't mind it grilled?" He was mentally crossing his fingers as Dean turned toward him and smiled. The action reached his eyes and the corners crinkled in a way that made butterflies swarm in Sam's stomach.

"That's my favorite way to eat _food_…and you did promise me BBQ." He answered with that million-dollar grin.

They walked into the back yard and Sam showed him the fire pit, which he whistled at in appreciation. Sam smiled before they headed back inside. Dean was worried that Emery would wake up and he didn't want the little boy to be alone when he did.

Sam crossed his fingers and walked into his own place. Ellen had put his things away and stocked the refrigerator and cabinets, while he'd been working with the horses. Warmth flooded through him at the woman's insight and he shook his head with a smile. She knew Sam wouldn't think to go get himself groceries. He was used to the Singer's doing the shopping when they went to town…or his father's housekeeper, Maria. He pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it to Dean. Sam was just reaching for the magnet on the door that had a bottle opener on it when Dean used the silver ring on his finger to flip the top off the bottle.

He chuckled at Sam's incredulous expression and simply grabbed the man's beer and did the same before handing it back to Sam. "More than just a piece of jewelry…it has a functional purpose too." He held the bottle out and waited for Sam to clink his beer against Dean's. "Thanks for the help today."

Sam nodded. "Uh, yeah…sure." His eyes were searching his home for any sign of spices as he took a long slow draw on the beer. He had absolutely no idea how to cook…so what was he going to make for Dean and Emery?

Dean watched as Sam stumbled through the kitchen, pulling out random spices that didn't belong together and such a strange assortment of vegetables that he wanted to laugh out loud. "Isn't that horseradish?" He asked as the other man grabbed the bulb from the pantry.

Sam turned a sheepish grin in his direction. "Honestly…I have no idea." He finally admitted.

"You've never cooked a day in your life have you?" He was struggling to control the laughter bubbling up inside at the 'deer in the headlights' look Sam shot at him. He finally shrugged and reached up to run his long fingers through his hair.

"What was your first clue?" He asked.

"When you tried to serve horseradish as a side dish." Dean said with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head. "Grab the stuff I set out and bring it over to my place." He was going through the cabinets and setting different items out faster than Sam could put them on the table.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Since I have the first several chapters written I am posting this one, they may slow down by a few days as I catch up. The guys are headed out on a cattle run with clients paying for a good time, they get far more than they bargain for when a storm moves in. _

_Thank you for taking the time to review the last chapter, I'm so glad you guys liked the original direction of this one. Thank you, M64, Estelio nin, ThisIsTotallyNotGospel, Mrs Winchester, LeeMarieJack, redyellowgreenandblue, Grifter5280, kjdw, need2no, and several guests…for your support._

**Please Review: They really do push me to post quicker.**


	5. Harvest Moon

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 5**

_Harvest Moon_

Dean slouched casually on a wooden bench behind the house; he'd turned off most of the interior lights before coming out here. His imagination was currently captivated by millions of tiny twinkling lights in the Texas night sky; he leaned back against the brick house and crossed his long legs, feeling more relaxed than he had in months.

There was a discarded sketchpad next to his right hand and smudges on his fingers from shading in the charcoal and pencil drawing. He glanced down at the, barely visible, drawing of a shadowed man on a steel train trestle bridge. The man's face could never be clearly seen, but Dean knew he had to figure out _whom_ the man represented...it was vital he solve this mystery of his past.

He still had holes in his long-term memory. Some things were as clear as day…others? He felt like he was trying to collect water in his palms. The closer he got to filling his hand, the faster it slipped through his fingers. His eyes shifted back to the seemingly endless sky and sighed as he lifted the cool rim of the beer bottle to his lips.

The moon was one of those incredibly full 'harvest moons'; ones that were the deep color of mandarin oranges…and it was tantalizingly enormous tonight. A coyote howled in the distance and a light breeze picked at his damp hair. The smell of sagebrush rolled in off the plains in aromatic waves that had him breathing deeply. He'd thrown on a pair of Batman pajama pants, ones that Emery had picked out, _god bless him_, and an old pair of worn flip flops, _one of his little known weaknesses,_ and then he'd wandered outside after making sure that Emery was sound asleep. The nightlight reflecting shadows of trucks and horses on his walls.

The little boys room was decorated in bright red fire engines and banana yellow construction trucks. Apparently he wanted to be a Fireman when he grew up…Dean had smiled at that…so had he when he'd been little. Emery had picked out the room's decor when they'd gone to town last weekend. Dean had also splurged on a small television for his son's room and a dvd player so the boy could indulge his most recent fixation…Disney's 'Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron'.

_Thank God it isn't that Frozen movie._ He thought with a horrified shudder. _I can only handle so many princesses in my life._ His thoughts shifted to the floppy haired man living on the other side of the wall and a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Sam was definitely cracking his icy veneer...whether or not he wanted the guy to.

Dean smiled as he again lifted the ice-cold beer to his lips, tossing the amber colored liquor back in a long gulp. He could really get used to this _simple_ life. It was like having an elephant lifted off his chest…the simple pleasure of sitting here with no one trying to kill him.

"You're not sore?" Sam's husky voice startled him and Dean nearly dropped his beer as he spun toward the half hidden man in the shadows. _And wouldn't that have been tragic? Beer all over his Batman pajamas._

"Jesus Sam…make a little noise next time." Dean grumbled, his posture straightening some as he flicked beer off his wrist.

Sam lifted his too large hands in a plaintive gesture and then the bastard grinned. "Sorry, didn't realize you were so jumpy."

"What? I'm not…just…" He pulled in a breath and bit back the response. "Never mind."

The other man looked at the cooler near Dean's feet and silently gestured. "Take one." Dean said.

"You know you _do _have a refrigerator?" Sam pointed at the house.

"I like the way ice cools them down…it just-"

"—tastes better." Sam finished without thinking. Dean's puzzled green gaze met Sam's and he nodded in agreement. An image of the Coors Light commercial with the snow covered Rocky Mountains flashed through his head.

Sam pulled out a bottle and on a whim handed it to Dean. The other man raised an eyebrow and slowly put his silver ring against the bottle flicking off the cap before handing it back. He didn't notice the way that Sam was avoiding looking at his bare chest in the soft glow of the moonlight.

"It's so quiet out here." Sam drank quickly to re-direct his thoughts. They were moving out of summer into fall and soon Dean wouldn't be comfortable just sitting outside...without a shirt.

Dean inhaled and nodded, the light glinting tantalizingly off his golden skin and contentment reflecting in the forest green pools of his eyes. "Yeah it is…I didn't have too much of that growing up."

Sam turned toward him in question. "What?" He hoped that he was going to actually learn _something_ about the man he was infatuated with. Because _that_ was all that Sam was ready to admit to. He and Winchester were just _compatible_…like really good roommates or something.

"Quiet." The simple answer caught the other man off guard and his mouth worked as he struggled for a response. It was the most honest that Dean had been about his past since he'd arrived over a week ago. Most anytime that Sam brought it up, Winchester just clammed up and claimed he had work to do. He'd stalk off in another direction, leaving a very confused Sam Campbell wondering what he'd done.

"Uh…we have clients coming in for a mock-cattle drive tomorrow." He said as he changed the subject, tilted the beer, and gulped back two large swallows in an effort to control his naughty thoughts. I beat of condensation from Dean's deer dripped off his bottle and rolled down his abdomen disappearing into the lightly colored trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. Sam swallowed hard and looked away, flustered by the simple action of the water.

Dean eyed him from his seat. "Mock-cattle drive?"

The larger man chuckled uncomfortably and his dimples caused Dean's own stomach to flutter. "Yeah, it's a new venture that Bobby came up with. Charge rich clients to come out and play cowboy for a few days. They get to feel like a part of the old west and we get paid." He noticed Dean's glower and added. "There's only two of them…couple of business men from New York."

Dean stiffened and at bit his lower lip as he struggled to control the unconscious reaction to the news. He opted for ignoring the lance of fear that speared him through the heart. "Yeah, we're being compensated for baby sitting a bunch of overpaid work-a-holics for the better part of a week." Dean groaned, he drained the last of his beer and reached for another. Sam's eyes were drawn to the ripple of muscles along Dean's ribcage as he stretched for the drink.

"…Uh…well…yeah…um…but they pay us…a lot." He finally managed as his tongue got all twisted up in his mouth. Sam could feel the heat scorching it's way up his neck. He leaned further into the shadows. He was pretty damn sure this interest he was feeling in the other man was completely one-sided. And he wasn't willing to risk scaring Dean off by asking him.

Dean turned incredulous green eyes on him; his heart was still racing at the idea of strangers coming here. "You wanna try that again, smart guy?"

Sam shook his head. He'd just made an utter fool of himself…he'd rather not have a repeat episode for posterities sake. "Not particularly, no." His generally intelligent gaze dropped to Dean's toes and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Flip flops? Really?"

Dean shrugged. "What? They have Corona on them…what can I say, Sammy. I like to give my feet a break at the end of the day." He bit his lower lip as he lifted his gaze to meet Sam's. "And honestly…I thought…figured you were asleep." His expression hardened and his eyes glazed as his thoughts shifted. "I don't sleep so well…bad dreams."

He heard the scuff of slippered feet on the cobbled patch as Sam shifted uncomfortably. His heart had thu-thumped in his chest at the sound Dean calling him _Sammy_. It's what Jasper had called him…before the whole _trying-to-kill-him_ thing. "Oh…well if you ever wanna…" Dean's icy glare silenced him. "Or not."

Dean rolled his shoulders and stood up, grabbing the small blue cooler and nodding, in a friendly gesture, in Sam's general direction. "Think I'll give _sleep_ another shot." He was almost through the door before he turned back toward Sam. "Night Sammy…see you in the morning."

As he disappeared into the house he thought he heard Sam's voice. "_It's Sam…"_

XXXX

The first few days had gone by without a hitch. Dean had picked up the workings of the ranch like a natural and Sam had been pretty mellow while he healed up from his encounter with Jasper. There was only a slight twinge in his ribs when he moved just right.

He wasn't feeling any more comfortable with his desire to be around the other man at this point. Dean just seemed to ooze charm and Sam found that he was as susceptible to that as Bobby's wife had been. _Plus the guy is one sarcastic remark away from getting bitch-slapped._ He thought silently.

Ellen had taken to both Dean and Emery like a fish to water. Everything about the little boy made her laugh. He followed her around while she worked in the big house or fixed lunch for the hands. The little boy had nearly jumped out of his skin with excitement when she'd let him ring the lunch bell. Bobby was, true to form, working the crap out of Dean. If he wasn't cleaning stalls, he was bucking hay…_that_ had nearly sent Sam racing over the edge of a precipice there would be no returning from. The sight of a sweaty Dean Winchester, without his shirt, leather belt holding his semi-tight jeans in place on lean hips, and tossing eighty-pound hay bales like they were nothing, had had Sam gaping in abject appreciation. Bobby had smacked him on the back of head for that one.

His sister had stayed mercifully in town and hadn't busted him on his little _fiction_. Plus he was learning a lot about the little boy that Winchester had brought to the ranch. They hadn't had any kids on it since he and Jo had been small. Gwen had already moved out by the time Sam was old enough to want to play.

The other hands had been absent the whole week, finishing a run to the furthest edges of the ranch and returning with the newest crop of Angus for the sale in a month.

Bela Talbot had ridden in like the beauty queen she'd been in her youth. Pristine white cowgirl hat glowing in the early morning sunlight. She was the only female wrangler that Bobby had every hired. She worked like a man, drank like a man, and didn't actually _like_ men. Making her a perfect fit for a ranch of rough and rangy men. One thing about the Brit…she could out-rope any man on this entire farm…and probably in Texas…which was saying something. No one really knew why she'd emigrated to the United States, but they were grateful to have her.

Then there was Caleb Bell; he'd been a friend of Sam's father, though he was only about 12 years older than Sam. He'd shown up on the ranch at the tender age of sixteen had refused to leave. Now he was the head wrangler and reported only to either Bobby or Sam.

Jake Talbot had come on about three years ago and he'd proved to be a good choice on the part of the foreman. He'd come from a horse ranch in Oklahoma and had been looking for a fresh start when he'd called about an opening on Bobby's crew. Sam generally steered clear of the black man. Jake was as tall as Sam and had about the worst attitude he'd ever had the misfortune of working with…but only with Sam. He seemed to like everyone else.

Sam was praying that Christian would stay silent and just get in his Yukon and head back to town. He'd been on this drive, because Sam hadn't been back yet and was generally eager to get back to Gwen…_and the money in her account_. He thought bitterly.

Finally there was Victor Hendrickson. Another black guy…not that there was anything wrong with that…but if Jake simply _tolerated_ Sam's presence, Victor was outright _hostile_ about it. He thought that Sam had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, making his somehow less worthy of respect. They'd nearly come to blows on several occasions and only the fact that Victor was also the Ranch's only form of _Law Enforcement_ kept him on Bobby's good side. He'd saved the Bar S from several cattle thieves over the years…_yeah that still happens._

And _none _of these people had met Dean Winchester yet.

XXXX

Dean grabbed the western saddle that Sam had lent him as he stared at the large bay gelding he'd been _assigned_. The halter plate said 'ZZ' and he shook his head in wonder. It was a Zulu Zane descendant. This ranch really did have some of the most incredible horses he'd ever seen. The heavy dark leather of the saddle was worn in all the right places and Dean wondered if Sam had broken in the custom wade-tree saddle. He smiled at the thought of his thighs rubbing in the same places as Sam's had. Dean shook the inappropriate thoughts clear. He was pretty sure Sam was straight. There was a picture of him with a pretty blonde in several vacation photos in his place. So Dean was positive he was out of luck on that front...but it didn't stop him from admiring the view. _And Sam Campbell was one hell of a view._

Dean inhaled and picked up the patterned wool blanket carefully positioning it on the horses back. He didn't want to give the horse any gall sores if he misjudged and there was a wrinkle in the thick horse blanket. He unconsciously breathed in the smell of freshly oiled leather and couldn't suppress the smile that came from nowhere.

Emery came screaming down the long walkway, his fire engine in one hand and his dinosaur in the other. He came to a lumbering stop when his father raised a silent eyebrow in his direction. "I'll walk…" He said as his chin dropped forward onto his small chest like Dean had just torn apart his small world.

"Thank you buddy...wouldn't want to scare ZZ here." Dean's gaze panned back to the doorway and Ellen smiled as she wandered in and handed him a leather satchel.

"Since we both know Sam _can't _cook…I thought I'd give _you_ the spices." She smiled at his surprised look. "He said you BBQ'd the first night…and it was excellent."

"Speaking of tall, gangly and can't-cook, where is Sam?"

"He had to go into town to pick up a few things. He should be back soon…if he's not already." She reached out and Emery took her hand dutifully. "Come on, let's go find Bobby and let your dad get the horses saddled."

The little boys lip popped out in a pout. "-can't I go…" He muttered and kicked despondently at the wood chips.

"Because you can't reach the stirrups." Ellen said plainly as she reached down and picked up the child. "Ice cream?" She asked as he stopped squirming and stared at her with wide eyes.

"Please." Emery said as he clutched the toys tighter. "Ms. Ellen…can I have subb i-scream?"

Dean smiled at the botched words and the woman's face melted. "Of course, with chocolate syrup." They waved to Dean before leaving the barn, discussing flavors the whole way.

A crack of thunder in the distance had Dean's knees wobbling for a second. It sounded too much like a gunshot and he hadn't been prepared. His heart hammered inside his chest and he found his fingers shaking as he unconsciously wrung his hands together. His green eyes flashing up to the gelding, who barely flicked his tail at the familiar sound.

"Glad you aren't afraid of thunder." He murmured before swinging the heavy saddle into place and pulling the cinch tight around the horse. The gelding merely took a deep breath and cocked his back foot in boredom.

A commotion just outside the sliding door of the barn had Dean stepping out to see what all the yelling was about.

"I don't want to ride the white one, I'm not some Lone Ranger wanna-be! I want to ride a black one."

There in the center of the turn-around were two prissy dressed _cowboys_. And Dean used that term very loosely. The men were wearing embroidered muslin cowboy shirts, wide black cowboy hats with silver bands around them, and the most expensive looking cowboy boots Dean had ever seen...probably snake skin or alligator.

"Well, you'll ride what's safest or you can get back in that expensive foreign job and take yer ass back to the airport." Bobby said. The old man's arms were folded across his chest and he was staring at the blonde man like he was the _worst_ thing to happen to this ranch.

The dark haired man standing next to the one complaining reached out. "Gabriel…just take the horse and lets go."

An icy glare from hazel colored eyes rooted him in his spot. "Castiel, no. We paid _ a lot_ for this trip and I want it to be perfect." The thunder rolled again and the man's gaze travelled to the distance. "Will we be safe?" He asked.

Bobby saw a chance and took it. "If you take Able, yeah. He ain't afraid of a little lighting…but the other horses kinda are."

Dean rolled his eyes when Bobby's blue gaze connected with his and he shrugged in innocence.

"Fine." The still unconvinced man said as he held his hand out for the reins to the sturdy looking horse.

"That's Dean Winchester, he'll be one of the hands on the cattle drive." Bobby said as he pointed in Dean's direction. He furrowed his eyebrows in disgust when he realized that the foreman had just pawned these two off on him. _Should've stayed in the damn barn._ He thought as he ran his fingers through his hair.

The dark haired man with the brilliant blue eyes, like a swimming pool, rushed forward, his hand extended in greeting. "I'm Castiel Novak and this is my brother Gabriel."

Dean shook each of men's hands before turning back toward the large barn. "I'm Dean and the rest of the gear is this way." He was careful to keep the internal jumpiness out of his voice as he showed the men where their tents and sleeping bags were stored.

This was going to be a very long week.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Here's a caption from next the next chapter titled 'Storm on the Range', "__Sam's head was twisting frantically as he searched the rapidly rising water for the dark head of Dean Winchester. He'd disappeared beneath the turbulent surface of the swollen river and he hadn't resurfaced yet. Panic was seizing through Sam's chest the longer he stared at the rushing river. The roar of water and the quick claps of thunder were making it impossible for him to hear anything." _

_Hope that wets your appetite. There's also some revelation's about Dean's past in there and Sam meets Alistair Zanuck for the first time. Thank you for reviewing, ThisIsTotallyNotGospel, LeeMarieJack, Carolina888, redyellowgreenandblue, need2no, mb64, Estelio nin, Dark Lilith87, for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you!_

**Please Review: It's honestly the only feedback I get as an author of Fan Fiction.**


	6. Storm on the Range

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 6**

_Storm on the Range_

Sam pulled back into the ranch and sighed when he noticed that their 'guests' had arrived and he was strolling in in a two thousand dollar suit. His gaze searched for Dean and he cringed when he saw the man standing just behind the dark haired guest. The meeting with the lawyer hadn't gone completely according to plan. He'd figured that he could push this meeting with Zanuck out until the end of the month. He'd only managed to get it pushed a week. Zanuck would be in the states and he was hell bent on meeting with Sam.

He clenched his teeth and he climbed from Bobby's farm truck. It was a brand new Ford F-350, the Lariat package and way nicer than any of the expensive cars in his father's five car garage. Sam had never had a passion for the sports cars…that had been his father. A pang of guilt that he'd been in California when his father had died caught him off guard.

Sam hurried into the house, praying that Dean wouldn't see him. He changed as quickly as possible and snuck around the back of the house, exiting out to the kitchen before jogging lightly toward the men and the assembled horses.

His gaze was immediately drawn to Winchester and his 'oh my god jeans'. Sam thinned his lips at his own traitorous body and shifted uncomfortably when Bobby noticed his stare.

"How'd it go?" The foreman stepped forward, the gentle roll of thunder echoing in the distance like some kind of omen.

Sam shrugged. "I got it pushed to next week."

Dean was engaged in conversation with the two men. Both of whom looked like raging douchebags in Sam's opinion. Plus is didn't help that the dark haired one was standing way too close to Dean, his blue eyes sparkling at something Dean had said. Winchester deep chuckle echoing through the area.

Bobby caught the subtle shift in Sam's voice. "Settle down boy, I'm pretty sure they're straight."

Sam's gaze snapped to Bobby. "What? I wasn't…" He stopped when the man raised an eyebrow. "I was…wasn't I."

"Yes you were. Now stop mooning over Winchester and get that herd to Miller's crossing. Conners will pick them up there. And I don't need to tell you that we _need_ that sale." Bobby lowered his voice.

Bela stepped up and ran her tongue over her teeth at the sight of the new hand. If she went in for guys? That one would be toast. Hot didn't even start to describe Winchester…she might not bat for that team, but she could sure as hell appreciate a star player. She'd already made her piece with Sam years ago.

"Sam, you ready?" Her blue gaze drifted to the storm. "If we're leaving we need to go now."

Caleb rode up with one of the younger Stallions; Two Doc's Down…Sam furrowed his brow at the change. "Where's Eagle?"

"He's still a little off on that front leg. I figured we should let him sit this one out. Besides, Doc here could use the tune up." Caleb chuckled as he tossed the long reins to Sam. The horse's head reared up in surprised and he snorted.

"Thanks for that." Sam ground out as he grabbed his own saddlebag from the ground and slowly lashed it to the back of his saddle.

Dean stepped up, his own gelding following quietly behind him. Sam sighed…ZZ was actually _his _personal horse. But he wanted Dean on something he trusted on this first run. It wasn't that he doubted the man's skills, but he had a kid for crying out loud. The last Sam wanted was for Dean to get hurt because of an unpredictable mount.

"Who's this guy?" Dean asked as he reached up and ran his fingers over the chestnuts red coat.

"Doc…out of Doc Bar." This stallion was only four and he'd been out on exactly one cattle run. But he was a foundation sire and one of the ranch's top potential earners if he panned out.

Dean whistled low in his throat and smiled. "That's some stock you've got." He looked over at the brothers, Gabriel was whining as he hauled himself into the saddle and Castiel was laughing when the horse turned and bit at his brother's expensive boots.

"If he eats these, you're buying me a new pair Singer."

The foreman shrugged. "Sure." They both knew that Bobby wasn't buying him shit if the horse managed to eat his fancy-ass boots.

"Yeah it is…you ready for this?"

Dean nodded and Sam signaled for everyone to mount up.

XXXX

The rain had started within hours of leaving the ranch. But they had a schedule to keep and it didn't matter that the thunder was making Dean crazy on the inside or that the torrential downpour was soaking them to their very bones. Sam always carried a storm radio when they went out on drives. He'd never had to actually _use_ the damn thing. When they'd stopped at the first set of fences, he'd pulled the waterproof radio and switched on the weather.

Once they got much further into the range, they wouldn't have any signal and he'd have no clue what they were riding into. He'd also pulled out his wool sweater and carefully slipped it on under the oil slicker. His hat was soaked, and it was barely keeping the rain from soaking into his eyes.

This storm had been pushed down by a slow moving pressure system in the north; it had brought with it colder weather, high winds, and a shit ton of rain. It didn't matter how nice the slicker was…the oilskin coats were doing nothing to stop the pounding of the rain.

The two men that had paid for the 'cowboy experience' looked truly miserable. They'd gotten about seventeen miles out when Sam had taken pity on them and sent them back to the ranch with Caleb and Bela. She'd complained that he was sending her back because she was a woman. Sam had explained that it was because he trusted her and needed her to help keep Caleb on the trail. He wasn't the best tracker and the trail would be severely washed out now. Victor had remained behind to help Bobby, and now it was down to Sam, Jake, and Dean.

Sam had debated on turning back himself, but Dean had explained that they were only moving a hundred head. That meant that three of them could move the herd and Sam in all his wisdom had only seen it as a chance to spend more time with Winchester. He could ignore Jake. So he'd agreed. As he stared down at the rain swollen Salmon River he was _so_ regretting that decision. His blue green gaze flashed up to the setting sun. They could try and cross before it got dark, or they could risk the river becoming even more swollen by the rain.

He' grown up doing these types of drives and he knew that chances were if they missed this chance to get across, they were screwed. Dean was hunched forward on the gelding, his arms pulled around his middle, the reins held loosely in his fingers. A web like pattern of lightning flashed across the sky followed by a thunderous crack. Dean jumped and the gelding balked.

Sam wasn't fast enough to catch the horse before he'd ran full tilt toward the edge of the river. Dean had been thrown off balance when the horse jumped forward. He'd been blown back out of the saddle and was hanging on behind it, his fingers digging into the leather of the cantle. The reins were flying in the wind, the gelding managed to step on one of the loose reins. He locked his haunches under himself and sat back when he saw the edge of the water. ZZ nearly toppled over the side.

Sam watched in horror as Dean was thrown from the back of the horse into the raging river. His arms flailing like pinwheels as he disappeared beneath the surface. The white caps of the rapids were making it nearly impossible for him to see where Dean had gone under. Jake was shouting from the other side of the bank. Sam couldn't make out anything, but the man's hands were swinging downriver, so he assumed that meant that Jake had seen Dean.

XXXX

The air was shocked from his lungs as Dean hit the icy cold water. His heavy jacket and woolen layers immediately dragging him under. The pressure of the water closing over his head had him kicking for all he was worth. Something snagged at his feet and he kicked harder. A branch lashed him in the face just as he broke the surface and he felt the burn as it sliced his cheek open. Dean sputtered as he tried to avoid rocks and debris. He searched frantically for Sam or anyone that could help him.

The weight started to pull him under again and he struggled to shrug out of the oilskin slicker. Water poured into his mouth when he tried to call out for help. He coughed and forced himself to focus as he was washed quickly away from his entry point. His panicked gaze finally found Sam's as he ran his horse along the banks, trying to keep up with the fast paced river. If it was possible, Sam appeared even more terrified than he felt as an underwater tree tore at his jeans. It felt as though there were icy fingers of death trying to haul him down.

An image of Frodo in one of the Lord of the Rings movies popped into his head. He could almost feel the spirits of people that had long ago past from this world straining to pull him into their heaven or hell. As he struggled to pull air into his starved lungs his stomach slammed into a large rock and he was forced beneath the waves…all the air driven from his body as he doubled in pain. His vision was pulsing in and out as black spots darted behind closed eyelids.

A flash of Emery's little face shocked Dean into action. He ignored the fiery wash of pain as he kicked, trying to free himself from the branches. Just when he thought that his body would give out and brilliant flashes of light strobed in his vision his head broke the surface.

Sam's head was twisting frantically as he searched the rapidly rising water for the dark head of Dean Winchester. He'd disappeared beneath the turbulent surface of the swollen river and he hadn't resurfaced yet. Panic was seizing through his chest the longer he stared at the rushing river. The roar of the water and the quick claps of thunder were making it impossible for him to hear anything. He took off at a dead run, the horse scrambling over the slick rocks and mud.

He saw Dean surface a few times, each time looking more and more beat up as the river took it's toll. Sam pulled his lariat and unconsciously set it for a throw when he saw an embankment ahead. He pressed his heels into the heaving side of the stallion as the horse put on an extra burst of speed and started twirling the rope above his head. The wind was tearing at the normally perfect circle, but Sam got the momentum he needed just as Dean's head broke the surface…he cast the line out.

It was textbook. The circle landed around Dean's extended arm and his body, the man's face registering shock as he felt the rope pull tight around his ribcage.

Sam dallied off the line and the horse sat back on powerful haunches just as Dean reached the end of the line. He launched himself from the saddle in a move that would make any professional roper proud and scurried down the slippery embankment. Sam cast a glance over his shoulder watching as the stallion did exactly what he'd been trained to do when roping.

He held. Doc was standing as still as a statue as the wind and weather ripped around him in ever increasing waves. The long red tail was whipping the horse as he hunched, his powerful hindquarters quivering with the effort of holding two hundred pounds of Winchester against the massive current.

Sam could see Dean disappearing beneath the surface over and over as the water rushed past him. His hands were grasping onto the rope in white knuckled terror as the thick rope cut into his hands and the bright red splash of blood appeared on the white line.

"Hang on Dean!" He cried as he finally made it to the edge. Sam waded carefully into the water, his hands grasping the sturdy rope. He could feel the current trying to rip his legs out from beneath him the deeper he got. The water was just below his armpits when he finally managed to get his arms around the struggling man. "I got you, Dean!" He yelled. The rushing water and mighty winds pulling his words from his lips before the other man could hear them.

Sam felt a bit of slack in the rope as the stallion stepped forward one step, then another at his signal. Doc squared off and went immobile at the instant change in the hand signal. He almost had Dean hauled back to the shore, the other man struggling to help…but he was exhausted so he was having a hard time getting his body to cooperate.

A loud over head snap had Sam's eyes flashing up. He gasped when a huge branch broke under the strain of the storm. It landed above thirty-feet upstream from him and Dean…and it was moving toward them fast.

_Only ten feet Campbell…_Sam called on every reserve of strength he had and hauled for all he was worth. The sight of the blackened tree bark the last thing he saw as another brilliant flash of lightning temporarily blinded him.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Here's caption from next the next chapter, "__Jake ran as hard as he could, the horse was tiring and he needed to tie off another line and get it to Sam or he was going to lose both his boss and the new guy. Midnight pounded up next to Doc and slid to a stop, Jake jumped down from the saddle and secured as second line. He was frantically trying to reach Sam when the branch broke and the storm took another nasty turn. He watched as the branch was on a collision course with Sam and Dean, his gaze searching for any way to stop this tragedy." _

_So some changes, Alistair's a bit of mystery for a bit longer. And we'll learn a bit about Dean in the next chapter. Thank you for reviewing, ThisIsTotallyNotGospel, LeeMarieJack, Carolina888, redyellowgreenandblue, need2no, mb64, Estelio nin, redcheeks88, ajaali, for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you!_

**Please Review: I haven't written an action sequence like this before, hope you liked it.**


	7. Storm Warning

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 7**

_Storm Warning_

The wind continued whipping around like it was trying to peel the gnarled bark from the ancient trees. Willows thrashed like the frayed ends of broom when Sam's mother had been trying to kill a spider in the kitchen. The rain was hammering down in a torrent of painful beads. It was like getting shot with ball bearings from a 12-gauge. The water on the river was spinning in corkscrews of white and black, looking like something out of a nightmare. The sound of the rapids was deafening and the amount of debris being pushed down the wide river was increasing exponentially with the rain. The temperature had dropped nearly forty degrees making it feel like a winter storm without the snow. Hail the size of dimes was starting to crash into the soggy mud...it truly was a storm to be reckoned with.

Jake ran as hard as he could, dodging the painful ice, the horse was tiring and he needed to tie off another line and get it to Sam or he was going to lose both his boss and the new guy. He barely maneuvered around a huge tree growing precariously close to the edge of the river. Midnight pounded up next to Doc and slid to a stop. A perfect eleven from his hind legs had been gouged deeply into the oily mud, Jake vaulted down from the saddle and quickly secured a second line to the horn. He was frantically trying to reach Sam when a branch broke off as the storm took another nasty turn. He watched in horror when the branch shifted and was now on a collision course with Sam and Dean. Jake's gaze was searching desperately for any way to stop this tragedy from being realized.

XXXX

Dean was just starting to get his legs under him as Sam pulled him off balance in a last ditch effort to make the shore. The second line, hitting him in the head, was like a gift from the gods. He reached for it almost blindly as he twisted his own body around, putting Dean in front of him. If that log hit them…it wasn't hitting Dean. The water was still pulling at his body and he could feel Dean's legs floating around his as the water continued to swirl. He was so focused on getting ahold of the line that he failed to see when Dean's head sank below the surface.

The driving rain wasn't helping him out any; the hail was pummeling him and Dean in a painful torrent of pins and needles. He cast his gaze up in surprise when a body splashed into the water next to him. Sam spluttered when he felt Dean's body go limp. "No!" He cried as he repositioned his hold and pulled the other man's head above the water. Dean's head dropped forward onto his chest listlessly.

Jake was yelling at him to let go of Dean. He had wrapped his own arms around the limp form of Winchester and he was desperately trying to pull him free of the death grip Sam had. Dean wasn't moving under his own power anymore. His head lolled to the side and Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he frantically turned again. Just as Jake was pulling Dean clear of the icy water, Sam felt a branch from the log slam in to his side. Pain blossomed and Sam bit his tongue in an effort to keep from crying out.

_Just my luck it hits exactly where Jasper nailed me with the fucking bat._ He groaned as the edge clipped him, he managed to get his legs out before the log could haul him downriver too. Jake had tugged Dean's limp form several feet from the edge of the swollen river. And now he was pounding on the unconscious man's back.

Sam wrapped his arm around his ribs as he stumbled forward, his side zinging him with pain as he did. He fell to his knees on the opposite side of Dean; his fingers aching to touch the other man. All he could manage was to lay his shaking fingers against Dean's throat, checking for a pulse. His heart praying that he found one.

_Thank God…it's there._ A thread of relief flooded through him as the too fast thu-thump of the other man's heart. It was thready and far too fast for Sam's liking…but it was there.

Jake must have managed to get the majority of the water out of Dean, because he sank back onto his heels. He pulled his slicker off and wrapped it around Dean's cold body. Sam felt like his brain must have stopped working…he knew that they needed to keep Dean's temperature up. Hypothermia was no joke and out here? It could kill the man before they could go get any help.

"Sam, I gotta get the tent from the pack." He yelled. Jake watched for Sam's slight nod. The wind was ripping his words away in a maelstrom of violent tornado-like microbursts. "It's on the saddle. I'll be back soon." His dark eyes dropped to Dean. "Keep him warm!" And with that Jake was on his feet and running. He stopped long enough to release the ropes from the horses. Doc turned so that his butt was facing into the wind and dropped his head down, waiting for the weather to pass.

Sam scooted forward and pulled Dean's head into his lap. He bent over in an attempt to keep the rain and hail from driving into Dean's body like tiny arrows. He flinched in sympathy when he saw the deep gash along Dean's left cheek. The bruises were just starting to form, but the abrasions were scattered across the man's entire body. "Dean?" He called softly. A loud burst of thunder echoed through the valley and Dean's body shook and a moan slipped past his blue-tinted lips.

Something about the way he'd reacted had Sam wondering what had happened in Dean's past that he was afraid of lightning storms now. It raised every protective instinct Sam had...almost possessively.

"Dean…it's okay." Sam said again, his fingers starting to drift idly through the soggy blonde locks of the other man. Sam sighed when Dean unconsciously moved into the warmth of his touch. A painfully bright flash of lightning reminded Sam that this storm hadn't run its course yet. He scanned the immediate area for Jakes return…but there was nothing. No sign of the other man. There was however a small overhang just off to this right. It wasn't much, but it would keep the rain off them. His side was killing him and kneeling like this in the mud wasn't doing much for either a bruised or busted rib…he wasn't sure which.

The hail was coming in larger and larger bursts of ice and he knew that they couldn't stay here any longer.

Sam ignored the fire in his side as he hefted Dean up. "Holy shit dude…you're fucking heavy!"

He complained to the whipping winds, but he was somehow able to get Dean up into a Fireman's carry. It was touch and go, but he managed to make it the fifty or so feet to the only place that provided cover. He carefully deposited his precious burden beneath the ledge.

Sam's eye's lifted to the horse that had saved both his and Dean's lives…he scurried out and grabbed the reins bringing the stallion closer. Doc followed and stuck his head under the outcropping, his body still outside, but at least the horse's face was dry.

An unexpected bonus? The horse blocked most of the rain and wind.

XXXX

Dean shifted and his eyelids fluttered as he crawled back toward awareness. His face was burning with a stinging cold that only came with injury and his body was echoing the pulses of pain. His hands clutched at his stomach as he curled in on himself. A groan escaping as he realized that Sam was out in that weather somewhere. He struggled and pulled his head in as he forced himself upright.

Unknown hands were trying to push him down and it took a moment for the buzzing in his head to clear enough for Dean to recognize Sam's voice. The panicked beating of his own heart thrumming through his ears.

"Dean…Dean…come on man…calm down. You're okay…you're safe." Sam's words were soft, but just this side of panicked, as he tried to get Dean's attention. He lifted his fingers and dragged them gently down Dean's face, cringing at the deep laceration on the man's face.

Glassy green eyes finally focused on the floppy hair above him. Water dripped off his long bangs and landed in Dean's hair as the man stared up at him, blinking slowly. "Dean…can you hear me?"

Dean's teeth chattered and he nodded slightly before instantly regretting it when his head exploded in pain. "Ouch…shit…" His usually deep voice was breathy, but it made Sam's own breathing come a bit easier.

"Hey…hey…Jake went to get the tent…he's not back yet." Sam's eyes slid up to the pouring rain and his eyebrows pulled down in worry.

Dean blinked a few more times. "You okay?"

"Did you? Seriously Dean, I'm not the one that almost just drowned." Sam's incredulous voice could barely be heard above the howling winds.

"Don't…b-b-be a b…bitch, Sammy." Dean stuttered. His brow furrowed in both pain and irritation. "J-j-just asking."

Sam felt his indignation drain away at the worry reflected in the pain filled eyes looking up at him. "Sorry, Dean. I just…I almost lost you man…and I can't…even…"

He was cut off as Dean forced himself into a seated position. His face grimacing as he pressed his eyelids shut in an effort to find enough strength to cover his emotions.

Sam watched a 'mask' slide over Dean's features. All remnants of pain were wiped from his face in an instant. His gaze took in the horse's breath softly ruffling his wet hair as he tried to pull in the necessary breaths. "D-d-didn't lose m-me." He reached up and touched Sam's face as his mask slipped momentarily and genuine affection reflected out of his green gaze.

Jakes arrival broke up the moment a second later. He shoved a couple of sleeping bags into the small overhang, a small nod at the two me. "I'm gonna go get help, Sam." His dark eyes looked at Dean's condition. "He can't ride." The rain shifted tracks and Jake stepped out for a moment before returning with a tarp.

Doc tossed his head at the riffling sound of the blue piece of plastic. But he stayed under the ledge. Jake did his best to secure the tarp, the wind was pulling at it and the whipping sound was amplified inside the alcove. "Jake, the storm…" Sam said. He'd never expected this type of help from the stoic man. They'd been at each other's throats since the day he'd come on board, but apparently somewhere in there he'd earned the man's respect.

"Doesn't matter. Midnight can make it through anything and we need help gathering the cattle. They're scattered all the hell now, this storm is the worst I've ever seen." Jake answered without hesitation. "We need the others." He looked over his shoulder and shuddered at the crack of thunder. "I'll hurry. Just stay here, Sam."

Sam didn't like the uneasy feeling in his gut as Jake backed away.

XXXX

It took him a bit to get the bags situated in an attempted to keep Dean somewhat comfortable. He grabbed the small medical kit and bit his lip as his side pulled in pain. "Hey, Dean…I need to clean that wound." His eyes were glued to the long gash, it was still seeping blood sluggishly. Dean's lips were tinged blue and he was still shaking.

A slight nod was his only response from the man huddled next to the dirt wall. He needed to get Dean warm, but there was no way that a fire would keep burning inside this spot. Plus, there wasn't exactly a plethora of wood available to sustain it either.

"B-b-body heat." Dean stammered. His voice was getting softer. But his eyes were lucid as he swallowed. "Best…way…to keep…warm." Sam forgot about the medical bag in his hand as he was caught off guard.

He knew instantly where this was going. They were both soaked and they weren't going anywhere until Jake came back. And that probably wouldn't be until some time tomorrow. Another crack of thunder and a brilliant flare of lightning had his flinching, but Dean's reaction was so close to panicked that Sam couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Dean clenched his jaw, the gash popping the scab a bit as blood seeped down his cheek and neck. He forced his tired muscles into action and slid closer to Sam's body. He was at least warm.

A soft intake of breath was the only reaction from the taller man as his body instantly went rigid. Dean lifted worried green eyes to his and thinned his lips at what read there.

It was obvious that Sam didn't want to be _this_ close to him. Apparently, whatever he was feeling it wasn't mutual and that hurt. "It's just…to survive…Sam…it's not…a wedding." He tried to smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Sam's features shifted from surprised to horrified as it dawned on him that Dean thought he was disgusted by being this close to him….when nothing could be further from the truth. But he knew that Dean was hurt and that they were in a _bad_ way at the moment. It didn't seem like the best place to discover whether or not they were _compatible_. He reached up and scrubbed a hand down his face.

"What? No…no, it's fine Dean…" He opened his arms and gathered the man closer to his chest. Sam knew that this would work faster with skin-to-skin contact. But even with the dire situation, he didn't trust himself with a _naked_ Dean Winchester. Not even with the worst storm he'd even seen in Texas raging outside.

They had no clue what injuries the other man had sustained; he could have internal bleeding or a concussion…Sam glanced down at the blown pupil of Dean's right eye.

_Scratch that…definitely has a concussion._

The weight of Dean's body as he lay against Sam was comforting in a way that it shouldn't be. He could feel the man's chest as he breathed shallowly in the waning light. Sam grabbed the edges of the sleeping bag and another tarp and basically turned them into a _burrito_.

Dean reached around and spanned his fingers along Sam's abdomen as he tried to pull himself impossibly closer to the man's warmth. "Thanks…Sammy…"

"For what?" Sam asked as he fought the urge to run his fingers through Dean's hair.

The incredibly deep pools of Dean's eyes looked up at him. "For not giving…up on me."

"I don't give up on people." He whispered.

Dean smiled and the action nearly broke Sam apart inside. "Everyone else…gave up on me…my whole life." The smile faded and a more serious look worked its way onto his face in its place. "…They hate me…" His words started to slur as he slipped into a restless sleep.

_We are soooo having one hell of a conversation when this is all over and you're safe._ Sam thought as he saw the flash of genuine gratitude on the man's handsome face. Even bruised and bloodied, this man was amazing looking.

XXXX

Bobby's eyes clouded as he watched the band of riders head off into the rising sun. Something wasn't right with this trip...he just couldn't put his finger on what was making uneasy. He didn't like the color of the sky…it was red. And while he wasn't a sea faring man…he knew the old adage… "Red sky at night, sailors delight…Red sky in morning, sailors take warning." He ground his teeth together as he glanced over at Ellen and the small boy cradled in her arms, a blue blanket wrapped tightly around the sleeping child. He hoped like hell they hadn't just made the kid an orphan.

Dean had brought Emery up to their place. The poor little guy hadn't even budged when he'd been transferred from his father's strong arms to Ellen's.

Yeah…there was definitely something wrong with this drive.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Here's a caption from next the next chapter, "__Sam kept silent vigil as he felt Dean slip off into a restless sleep. The palm of right hand was splayed over Dean's sternum as he simply felt the man breathe. There was a hitch to it was making him nervous. Every time the lightning flashed he caught a glimpse of the pain etched on Dean's face. But it was the wheezing that was starting to make him nervous. Dean was resting between his legs, so that his long lips provided additional warmth, at least that's what he was telling himself. Mostly he just wanted to touch the man with every part of his own body that he could. It was a desperate attempt to remind himself that Dean wasn't dead." _

_ Thank you for reviewing, __DearHart, LeeMarieJack, Elma.1972, SingReader, mb64, Estelio nin, samisnotevil, ajaali, , ctskctsk, for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you!_

**Please Review: I'm hoping you like them being stranded for a bit, it opens up the chance for conversation.**


	8. Confessions in an Alcove

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 8**

_Confessions in an Alcove_

A twig pressing painfully into his ass had Sam shifting as he listened to the storm rage outside. Memories of the growing up in Texas and sleeping under stars assaulted him and he inhaled slowly. _God I wish I'd had a brother..._He loved Gwen. But if he'd had someone like Dean around? Oh man the trouble they could have stirred up. Although then that would make the way he was feeling incest..._so NO...just NO..._in this case he was glad Dean Winchester was no more related to him than he was to the horse staring at them both.

Sam kept silent vigil as he felt Dean slip off into a restless sleep. The palm of his right hand was splayed over Dean's sternum as he simply _felt_ the limp man breathe. There was a slight hitch to it that was making him nervous. He could feel the solid muscles and the way they pulled over the man's sternum in a mass of warm quivering...he stopped that line of thinking...focusing on their situation.

The rain was still falling, but it was gradually lessening. Rather than the turbulent sideways rain and hail, it was becoming a steady downpour. Every time the lightning flashed he caught a glimpse of the pain etched on Dean's face. But it was the high-pitched wheezing that was starting to make him a little nervous.

Dean was resting against his body, so that his long legs provided additional warmth along the other man's body, at least that's what Sam was telling himself. Mostly he just wanted to touch the other man with every part of his own body that he could. It was a desperate attempt to remind himself that Dean wasn't dead.

The fingers of his left hand were gently carding through the slowly drying hair, while the _guard _horse was standing just above them. Doc didn't seem too concerned about the fact that a large portion of his body was still outside; his eyes were falling shut as the horse rested. _So that means no immediate danger...thank God._

Sam smiled up at the animal. Doc had saved Dean's life and that meant he'd earned a place on this ranch as long as Sam owned it. A slight groan from the rescued storm victim got his attention instantly. Dean's hand snaked it's way out of the blanket and he winced when he touched the painful gash on his face.

"Dean?" Nothing. "Dean...come on man."

"Ugh...mmnn..." Another groan was the only answer as Dean started to shift inside the sleeping-bag-tarp-thing.

Sam looked down and found himself instantly pulled into the man's impossibly deep green eyes. They were fluttering in and out of sight as he blinked several times. Sam shifted backwards and worried as he felt the uncontrolled shivers from Dean's body travel along the lanky muscles. He blinked a few times and then Dean's tongue darted out and licked along his lower lip. Sam's eyes widened at the action. It was so sensual and yet he _knew_ that it was probably only because the other man's lips were dry. It was not an invitation to see what Dean's lips tasted like.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was cracked with fatigue and the blown pupil of his right eye made Sam wince with sympathy. "What the hell happened?" He shifted again and Sam swallowed hard as Dean moved innocently against his own sensitive body. "Feel like I got hit by a Mack Truck."

That made Sam's dimples show. "Nope. A Texas storm actually." His face cleared and he reached up to drag his fingers along Dean's cheek. He couldn't help it.

Dean blinked in confusion.

_Probably the concussion._ Sam looked down at the man and let his hand fall away. "ZZ chucked you into the river...how much do you remember?" He understood the horses fear, but he was still pissed that it had put Dean in danger. He so easily could have lost Dean today. Dean shook his head in a 'Not much' kinda way. "I'm pretty sure you have a concussion."

"How do you know? You a doctor and a cowboy?" The question was innocent as Dean stared up at him, long eyelashes dropping down before rising ever so slowly.

Sam raised his eyes heavenward and shook his head. "Nope. But I read a lot and because you're having a bit of trouble stringing two coherent sentences together."

Dean chuckled and then moaned when pain echoed between his ears. "I have trouble with that on a normal day. Not a good way to judge me, Sammy." He snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blankets and then grimaced at the pain in his side. "I'm so damn tired."

" .no. You need to stay awake, Dean." Sam took a chance and brushed his fingers through Dean's hair again. _It is so soft._

"Mmmm-kay." Dean answered as his eyelids drooped.

"Dean, I'm serious. You gotta stay awake man." The worry was layered into Sam's request and it broke through Dean's lame protests.

"So keep me awake." He said. Dean sighed and shifted so that he could see Sam's face in the low light of the alcove. The water from the rain was running past the opening in rivulets and the wind was finally starting to die down. "That first night…in the bar? Why'd that guy try to bash your pretty head in?"

All Sam heard was that Dean thought he was _pretty_…he had to force himself to pick up the rest of the question. His heart fluttered like a teenager at the small chance that there may be _something_ here between him and Dean.

"Uh…the guy's name is Jasper Harrison. We went to the same High school." Sam gulped and pressed his lips together as he figured out how to _spin _this story and still keep it mostly truthful. He didn't want to lie to Dean. _Not ever_…and that was all he was doing right now…lying.

Dean smiled slightly. A pained shadow fell over his face as the gash on his cheek pulled at the newly formed scab. "I figured there was some history there."

"Yeah…not a very pleasant one. Jasper and I…we...uh... _hung_ out a lot in high school."

"And by 'hung out', you mean…you dated?" Dean tried to clarify. A bolt of jealously caught the injured man off guard as his 'not at all helpful' brain started throwing images of Sam and Jasper in compromising positions at him.

Sam's surprised intake of air before he was protesting only served to strengthen Dean's guess. "What? No!" He scrubbed his long fingers through his hair as he stalled for time. _How the hell did he do that? I was supposed to be learning about him?!_

"We…uh…got drunk and things got a little…physical." He noticed Dean's surprise and rushed forward, desperate to alleviate the other man's concerns. "Not like that. Just kissed and then nothing…we never really talked about what happened. He and some of his jock friends jumped me and then we all graduated. I left. He stayed. End of story." Sam shrugged.

Dean had struggled up into a sitting position. He was still sitting between Sam's legs, but now he was staring at the other man in horror. "That wasn't the first time he jumped you?" Anger worked its way onto his face and Sam watched in fascination as it darkened into something that could become downright scary.

"It was a long time ago. He just never really dealt with it." Sam was trying to diffuse the situation, because if the look in Dean's eyes was anything to judge by? Jasper Harrison was one _dead_ son of a bitch. "So…I've told you something about me. Your turn."

There was an immediate shift in Dean. He pushed his legs out and leaned back down into the comfort of Sam's lap. His amazing eyes staring up at the other man. "What do you mean?"

Sam raised his eyebrows at that. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean'…I wanna know something about you, Dean Winchester."

"Not much to tell."

"Somehow I _really _doubt that." Sam reached up and ran his fingers along the soft muzzle of the horse. Dean's eyes followed the action and he sighed, reaching up to scrub a hand down his face. _How much can I say..._

"Grew up in a big city. Got into a lot of trouble when I was a kid...kinda took me a long time to grow out of it." He blinked as he was transported back into those unpleasant memories.

"Then?" Sam prodded.

"Then Emery happened." That was all he was going to tell Sam. It wasn't that Dean didn't trust _Sam_. It was that the more Sam knew? The more danger he would be in. And there was no way that Dean was putting this man in any more danger than he already had.

Sam heard the definitive end to that line of questioning. He bit at his lower lip as he debated on asking the 'big question'. The one that was burning a hole in his fucking jeans. "Are you…"

Dean looked up at him and a slow smile worked its way into his face when he saw what Sam wanted to know plastered all over the big kids face. "Am I gay?" He might have a head wound, but he'd seen that _question_ on so many peoples faces over the years that he'd have to be dead to miss it.

Sam gulped and nodded. "I know its not something guys usually ask each other…but…uh…well…" He stopped talking as embarrassment gagged him.

Dean chuckled and then clenched his teeth at the pain it caused. "No Sam. I'm not gay." Sam's heart fell and he sank back against the wall. "Wait…Sam. The answer is complicated. I'm _not_ gay. But I don't quantify attraction to a sex either. I'm either attracted to someone or I'm not. Doesn't matter if that person is male or female." The sudden clarity in Dean's head was gone once he'd gotten the words out. He sagged against Sam's thighs and his head throbbed in pain.

"Really?" Sam questioned.

"Truly. Always been that way…long as I can remember." Dean said with a yawn.

The thunder rolled off in the distance and Dean's gaze jerked in the direction of the sound. His forehead furrowed in worry and he pulled the sleeping bag tighter around himself and Sam's legs.

"Can I ask you one more thing, Dean?" Sam wondered.

"Depends, I might not answer it…fair warning." Dean answered quickly. He wasn't sure how much more of this twenty question game he really wanted to play. Sam already knew more about him than he would prefer.

"Why don't you like the thunder?"

Dean gaped at him in surprise. He actually didn't mind the thunder or the lightning. It was the unexpected claps of thunder that bothered him. "That's a conversation for another time, Sam." His eyelids were starting to get heavy and he was having a hard time focusing on Sam's face. "Sammy…I need to get a little sleep."

Sam wanted to argue. Wanted to argue with every fiber of his being, but Dean's body took the debate out of his hands. The smaller man's eyelids fluttered and he passed out cold as his eyes rolled back. "Dean?" Sam called as he gently rubbed the soft skin of Dean's neck. "Dean!" He repeated louder…still nothing. His fingers dropped down and he exhaled in relief at the steady throbbing pulse. He looked over at the horse, which simply breathed in and out in a rhythmical pattern of boredom.

"Or maybe it's just me that's starting to hate it…" Sam said to no one.

XXXX

A pinch in his side and a full bladder sent Dean racing back to consciousness. The sound of rushing water wasn't helping him at all. His head was resting against something that was simultaneously hard and soft. _And it was moving_…

He forced his eyes open and twisted his head so he could see. At first the only thing he saw was flannel…a lot of flannel. And then the blurriness in his vision faded and he realized that he was looking at a shirt. _Sam's shirt._ The light was filtering and he had this sneaking suspicion that there had been something there blocking it before…like a horse.

Pain was tripping up and down his spine as he carefully unraveled himself from the burrito blanket and Sam. The taller man was breathing in and out softly, his face relaxed. And while there were definitely some holes in his memory from last night, he remembered that Sam had saved his life.

Dean pushed out of the small alcove and blinked several times while his eyes adjusted to the light. He almost wished they hadn't. The river was raging and it was the color of mud. It was pushing so much silt, debris, and even…_animal carcasses…yuck!_ He grabbed at his side when it throbbed in a reminder that he'd hit a rock the night before. Dean looked down and was grateful not to see any blood. He gently reached down and picked up the edges of his shirt and groaned when he saw the dark bruising.

He hoped that he hadn't damaged anything internally, because the ride back was gonna suck bad enough as it was. Dean's gaze flickered back to the tarp-covered overhand…_no Sam._ Good. He found a spot that was just behind the large tree that had tried to kill them the night before and relieved himself. He smiled to himself when he saw Doc munching on some dried grass just up from where he was.

_At least one of the horses didn't abandon us._ He thought. Dean pulled the zipper up and leaned against the tree when an unexpected wave of dizziness caught him off guard.

"Hey…you okay?" Sam's voice rang through the area and Dean spun around to see the man running his fingers through his hair as he yawned.

"You should be asleep."

"We need to get outta here…I can sleep in my own bed." He stretched and then took a closer look at Dean. He looked like crap. The bruising on his face was starting to darken and the gash on his cheek really needed stitches. "That needs to be sewn up." He said as he pointed at Dean's face.

"Chicks dig scars."

Sam raised his eyebrows at the quip and shook his head.

"Besides, there's a problem with your escape plan." His green gaze tracked over to the horse.

"One horse." Sam said.

"Bingo." Dean ignored the massive headache as he watched the wheels in Sam's head start turning. "What?" He saw the minute a plan formed, but the other man was having difficulty putting it into words, based on the sour look on Sam's face. "What man? Come on. Spit it out."

Sam shrugged. "Doc rides double…"

"Come again?" He could not have heard that right.

"The horse…he rides double." Sam repeated sheepishly. It was actually a good plan. But all _he_ could think about was having Dean sitting behind him…for hours. That might actually be the worst idea he'd ever had…or the best…he wasn't sure which.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Here's caption from next the next chapter, "__The man in black passed the large stone rock pillars to the Texas ranch. This was where Dean Winchester had been seen last. That kid in town, the one with the black eye…he'd been very helpful. One look at the picture of Dean and he'd spilled his guts. Which meant that the child should be here too." _

_Thank you for reviewing, carolina888, LyleRay, redyellowgreenandblue, Kaneswolf, mb64, DearHart, LeeMarieJack, Danni99981, Estelio nin,and samisnotevil, for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you!_

**Please Review: We're getting to the good stuff. Let me know if you like it so far.**


	9. First Encounters

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 9**

_First Encounters_

The wind was picking at his hair and he could feel the grime from the river as he ran his fingers through it. _Gross...God I need a shower._ The dirt was mostly mud and his boots were caked in the sticky stuff. And damn did the desert smell after it rained.

Dean's eyes flickered over to the horse, which looked up in innocent curiosity. He then looked over at Sam's general size. "Uh…neither of us are small guys…you get that right?"

Sam's look said. _And your point is?_

"I just…it might be hard for him to carry two of us…that's all." Dean wasn't sure why he needed to explain their relative size to Sam. His head hurt…damn did his head hurt…

"We'll go slow. And you can't exactly walk back…If someone needs to walk, it'll be me." Sam was so serious about the whole thing that Dean kinda wanted to laugh. But this wasn't a very _funny_ situation. The sun was starting to heat up the area and he new that it was going to be pretty unbearable if they didn't get moving soon. And damn…did a bed sound good tonight. His bruises had bruises.

"What about the cattle?" They'd come out here to get the cattle over to the drop off point…and now they were leaving them to God only knows what fate.

"We'll come back for the damn cattle. You need a doctor." Sam thought about it for all of one moment. He twisted and the jab of pain in his side made him wince. "I need a doctor."

Dean's gaze was instantly penetrating Sam as he moved toward the other man. "Sam, are you hurt? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm fine, Dean." He started toward the horse and missed the whispered response.

"That's my line."

XXXX

Dean was shifting uncomfortably. His stomach was bothering him and his head was spinning as he bit back the desire to groan. He could feel the muscles of Sam's back bunching beneath the shirt. And that was activating a whole new part of his _brain_.

Typical of Texas, the weather had taken another turn…the sun was beating down on both of the men and the horse was moving at an easy pace. Dean decided that he needed to take his mind off the pain. Some of the discussion from the night before was a little fuzzy. He knew they'd talked about sex…he just couldn't remember if it was so they could have it? Or if they wanted to go out and get it?

Dean opted to trying to learn more about Sam. "So did you grow up here in Texas?"

Sam inhaled. He could continue to lie to Dean…or he could come clean about the whole ranch. Although, he had no intention of telling Dean about Law School, he thought he should probably tell him about who he was. He still didn't know if he was going to return, so why set them both up. "I grew up here…my dad owned a ranch."

Dean's brain seized on that bit of information and some puzzle pieces fell into place. He swallowed. "You own the Bar S…don't you?" The way that Bobby had talked to him…the way the other hands had steered clear of Sam? It all made sense if he was the owner of the place.

"It's complicated…" He was stalling and they both knew it.

Dean blew out a breath that ruffled the fine hairs on Sam's neck and caused a shiver to run up and down his spine. "Sam, stop the horse."

"What?"

"Stop the horse." Sam barely managed to halt Doc before Dean was sliding off the back end. His legs buckling slightly as he landed on his feet and pain shot up through his entire body in a bolt of electrical impulses. Dean was walking away before either of them knew what was happening. He stumbled once, and caught himself before he fell.

"Dean?!" Sam called as he dismounted and rushed to catch up with the other man.

"Hey…wait up. Are you mad at me?" Sam was confused. He didn't think that he'd said anything that would piss off Dean. _Maybe I should have told him earlier._

Dean shook his head as he continued to walk. "No. Sam…I'm not mad at you."

"Then what's all this about?" He gestured toward the open plains they were now walking over. The sage brush and the muddy ground squelching under their boots. It was the first time that Sam had looked at Dean's boots. He didn't wear typical cowboy boots. He was wearing an old pair of construction work boots.

Dean looked up at the sky, scrubbing his hand through his hair and immediately turned to focus his stare on the taller man. "Why didn't you just tell me at the beginning? Why the whole charade about being just an employee?" The more he thought about the ruse the more questions he had.

Sam shrugged and kicked a rock. "I don't know. I guess I just wanted you to get to know me without my family's name coming up…or the money."

"Do you really think I'm that shallow?" Dean's eyes were pained as he stared at Sam. "I liked you before I even knew your name…before I ever walked into that bathroom." The revelation took some pushing from his conscience. He'd wanted to tell Sam that he'd been debating on approaching the tall kid at the bar for most of that evening. But when he saw the other man slip into the one toilet bathroom right after Sam…he'd gotten that 'wonky' feeling in his gut.

Sam's eyes lifted from the ground and connected with the open admission from the other man. "You saw me?"

He nodded. "I did. And I was interested." Dean reached up and ran his fingers down Sam's face. Ignoring the pinch in his gut he pulled the taller man down. Their lips met in a soft exploration. He felt the gentle pressure of Sam's lips as they strained against each other. His hands dropping to splay over Sam's broad chest in a maneuver that had Sam's breath catching.

Dean's soft movement of his plump lips was sending tingles of pleasure racing through Sam. He dropped the reins and wrapped his arms around the shorter man, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Sam's fingers ran along the hard muscles of Dean's lower back. The kiss over before it really got started, as Dean pulled back and stared up at him, his green eyes sparkling. "I've wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you." He smiled and the action was so sweet that Sam couldn't help but grin back.

"I wanted to…I don't know…but this was way better…" Sam's smiled faded. "You're not leaving are you?"

Dean looked around and raised an eyebrow.

Sam chuckled. "No…uh, as soon as we get back…you and Emery?"

"Not planning on it." Dean's voice dropped into the husky tone that made Sam's toes curl in his boots.

"Good. Cuz, I'd like to know more about you." The immediate shift in Dean's demeanor caught Sam a little off guard. He went from being open and easy to read…to closed and a stone mask fell in place. It almost gave Sam whiplash it was so quick.

Dean's eyes were cold as he inhaled slowly. "Look Sam…I wanna stay here…but I can't do that if you ask questions." He watched as the man straightened in surprise. "I know it's not the best way to start a relationship…and I know it isn't fair…but…it's the way it is."

"I don't understand." The inquisitive nature that made Sam such a good student didn't lend itself to letting secrets go. But for right now…he could put it on a back burner. He wasn't willing to risk losing Dean before they even knew whether there was _something_ there to lose.

"I know. And I can't explain. I'm sorry." Dean's face fell a bit as his mask slipped. "You have no idea how sorry I am." He started walking again. The distance was blurry as Dean's stomach pinched again and he bit at his cheek. He'd definitely damaged something in that damn river, but he didn't have a clue what. He kept facing forward, sensing the moment that Sam started following him again.

They walked in silence. The fuzzy distance turned out to be Bobby's truck and several of the hands on horses. Sam nearly collapsed in relief when he saw the red outline of his friend's vehicle.

Jake pounded up on another horse. His eyes worried as Dean stumbled again. "Good to see you two moving under your own steam." He said as he quickly dismounted and Bobby slid to a stop just in front of them.

"Geeze boy, you scared the goose crap outta me." Bobby's voice was strained as he jumped from the truck and wrapped Sam in a hug that had the young man groaning in pain. "You okay, Sam?" He pulled back immediately and shifted into 'daddy' mode. His blue gaze raking over Sam's torn clothing and exhausted expression.

He raised his eyebrows at Bobby's comparison. _Goose crap? That's a new one. _"Just my ribs, Bobby. But I'm okay…check on Dean." Sam's worried look had Bobby moving quickly toward the new hire.

Dean was bent over; it was obvious he was in pain…how much remained to be seen. But his face was a mass of colorful bruising that would be impossible to explain to the kid's son. There was a long gash on his cheek and it looked pretty bad…it had needed stitches about fifteen hours ago. Hopefully it wouldn't scar too badly. "Can you tell me what hurts, Dean?"

Green eyes lifted to meet his and he tried to force a smile onto his face. He swallowed. "My head…and my stomach."

Bobby leaned in closer after getting Dean seated on the passenger side of the truck. "Yer right pupil is blown…so I'm not surprised you got a headache son." He glanced over at Sam. The intense look he was shooting Bobby had him wondering just what had happened between these two. "As far as the stomach…hurts like what? A stomach ache?"

Dean shook his head. "No…like serious pain, Bobby. I wouldn't bitch about a stomach ache."

_Okay, that's not good._ The foreman hurried to his side of the truck and crawled inside, shooting Sam a look that said 'if yer coming, come now.'

Sam looked at the horse and then smiled slightly as Jake reach out for the reins. "I'll make sure he gets home safe, Sam. Go with Bobby."

He didn't know what had changed the guy's opinion of him, but he was grateful as he handed the reins over and rushed to crawl into the backseat of the extended cab pickup.

XXXX

Spending all afternoon in the doctor's office wasn't how Dean had wanted to spend his day…any day. But as it turned out when he'd been spin-cycled in that river he'd managed to tear the lining of the muscles along his stomach. Which explained the increasing pain every time he moved just right. The concussion was something he'd just have to ride out. There wasn't much a doctor could do for him. And finally his cheek…well the very pretty nurse had cleaned it up and then the doc had stitched him right up.

He'd asked Ellen to keep Emery with her, since Dean really didn't want his son to see in a hospital. It would scare the little guy and he'd be home that night…even if he had to check himself out A.M.A. _Medical guys didn't know everything, right?_

Dean had hitched a ride with a local. The man knew where the Ranch was…apparently everyone knew where the ranch was. He'd filled Dean in on some details about the place…and Sam. Apparently Sam's father had been massively wealthy, old money. He'd inherited the place when his father had died a few months ago. A freak accident or something. Gwen had married some guy and stayed in town, while Sam had taken off to go to school.

_Why wouldn't he tell me about that?_ Dean wondered. Part of him latched onto another piece of information about Sam…and part of him was trying to understand why the guy wasn't just telling him? Did Sam want to go back to school?

_That would make sense; I mean if I'd spent the last five years studying to be a lawyer, I'd sure as hell want to finish it._ But it wasn't like Sam was running from something.

Dean's thoughts flashed back to Chicago and he leaned against the door of the truck as memories flooded through him. Maybe it was the drugs…maybe it was Sam…he didn't know.

_James had come to him out of respect…told Dean that he'd been put on 'the list'. It didn't make sense; he'd been the best at their job. The Consortium had trained him and he'd done what they asked…right up until it included the murder of one of their own. He'd been somewhat involved with Lisa Braedon when it happened. Dean knew it was a bad idea to get into bed, literally or metaphorically, with the bosses daughter, but she was hot. And she'd made it very clear that she was interested in him._

_Lisa wasn't like her father; she was all kindness and smiles. And he'd loved her…if Dean was capable of that. They'd only been together two months when she told him she was pregnant. He'd been freaked out, elated, scared shitless, and any other word that described feeling totally and completely unprepared. _

_It wasn't until Emery was two years old that Dean found out that Lisa had been sleeping with James right before they got together. While she'd never cheated on Dean, there was a chance that Emery wasn't his. He'd gone to James and asked the man about it face to face. In retrospect he wished he still didn't know the answer to that question. But when Lisa had been killed and he'd been placed on that list he knew that Richard 'Dick' Roman was coming after his grandson…the heir to his Empire. So Dean had shoved the pain of her death inside a box so deep in his soul that he was able to present a normal persona to the world. _

_Hell, he'd been perfecting his cover for the vast majority of his life. He'd spent a large portion of his childhood in the stables of one of the richest men in the entire world. His father had required him to train both with firearms and sparring techniques. When Dean had been old enough his father had revealed that he was actually a cop and that they were trying to put a cast together on Dick. When he'd been thirteen his father had been killed in some bust-gone-bad and Roman had kept Dean around. He didn't have any other family that he knew of. His mother, Mary, had died in childbirth and it had been him and his dad after that._

_He'd thought that maybe he could raise Emery after Lisa's death, but he'd definitely had concerns. After all…an assassin wasn't exactly number one on the PTA's list of best parental choices. But Dean loved that little boy and he couldn't let him grow up in the same environment as he had. Being the son of John Winchester, super undercover cop, wasn't exactly a picnic. And then the department had approached him and offered him and Emery a way out. But he would have to throw gasoline on the bridge they were crossing and then light it on fire behind them, which he watched everyone he'd ever known burn._

_The decision had been difficult, but when he'd looked into Emery's innocent eyes he'd agreed and tried not to look back at the carnage. And then he'd learned that Dick had escaped and with him, so had James…and they were searching for him and Emery._

Dean jerked awake as the truck rolled to a stop. "Hey kid, we're here."

He looked over at the kind face of the old man. "Thanks." Dean's hand wiped down his face and he winced as his fingers ran over the bandage. He pushed the door open and carefully stepped out, his small plastic hospital bag in hand. "I appreciate the ride, man."

The guy shook his head and smiled. "Sure. Take care." He started to pull away after Dean shut the door.

His gaze lifted to the huge house and he bit his lip in uncertainty. Chances were that Sam was there. He inhaled and slowly made his way to the front door. After a short series of knocks the door pulled open and Sam was gaping at him.

"Dean?" His blue-green gaze raked up and down Dean in surprise. "What are you doing here? You should be in the hospital."

Dean shrugged and then regretted it when his stomach pulled painfully. "Checked myself out."

"What? Why?" Sam stepped aside and Dean shuffled past him, his arm wrapped around his ribs.

"Cuz I hate hospitals and there's nothing they can do for me anyways."

"They can make sure you don't die." Sam shot back worriedly.

Dean chuckled. "I'm not gonna die, Sam. It's just a torn muscle."

Sam scoffed in frustration. "Yeah, in the lining of your stomach. People bleed to death internally…you know that right?"

Dean scratched his neck and turned to stare at Sam. "I'm aware that blood is internal, yes."

"You know what I mean." The face that Sam shot at him could only be described as a _bitch-face_. "Okay, if you refuse to stay where a nurse can keep an eye on you. Then you're staying here with me."

Dean smiled knowingly. And Sam thinned his lips as he rolled his eyes. "No. Not on until your healed…I don't want you out at the bungalow until I'm certain I'm not gonna find you face down in the carpet."

"I tore a muscle, Sam. I'm not dying." He was starting to get a bit irritated with the mother-hen routine.

Sam stepped forward and ran his fingers along Dean's bandage on his face. "And I want to keep it that way, Dean." He took a chance and leaned in placing a chaste kiss on the other man's plump lips. The shock of passion that ran through his body at the quick intimate gesture caught him unprepared and he pulled back before it got out of control. When he looked into the smoldering eyes of Dean, he knew that he was in so much trouble. Sam was already more attached to the guy than he'd ever been to Jessica…and that could prove problematic. Especially since he didn't really know anything about Dean.

Dean cleared his throat and stepped back a bit. "Me too…Uh…where's Emery?"

"Ellen's got him baking cookies."

"Explains the awesome smell." Dean said with a grin. He started into the house…in the direction of the laundry room.

Sam smiled. "Have any idea where you're going?"

Dean stopped and stared at the stainless steel appliances. "Not a clue."

"Kitchen's this way." He started in the opposite direction.

XXXX

The man in black passed the large stone rock pillars to the Texas ranch. This was where Dean Winchester had been seen last. That kid in town, the one with the black eye…he'd been very helpful. One look at the picture of Dean and he'd spilled his guts. Which meant that the child should be here too. He wasn't one for rushing into anything and Dean was every bit as well trained as he was. He sat back in the car as he continued passed the turn off. He could afford to wait a bit longer. He needed to know more about this place before he went in and took out Winchester and retrieved the kid.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Here's caption from next the next chapter, "__"I don't think that damn kid is gonna sell, Alistair." Branson hated bringing bad news to his boss. But he needed to know that the Campbell kid looked like he was gonna try and make a go of the ranching business._

_Alistair spun around and glared at his second in command. "Then find a weak point and press so hard that he screams."_

_Branson blinked a couple of times before he said something in response to that. "What is it with you and this Ranch?"_

_The taller man spun and grabbed Branson around the throat slamming him into the wall. "That's my business. Get that fucking kid in a room with me by the end of the week or I'm going to fire you."_

_The man getting his throat crushed shivered as he was released. You weren't fired by Alistair Zanuck…you disappeared. "I'll get it done."_

"_Make sure you do." With that Alistair stalked out of the room." _

_Thank you for reviewing Elma.1972, whiteraven67, redyellowgreenandblue, Estelio nin, DearHart, mb64, LeeMarieJack, , Miuda22, samisnotevil, carolina888, ajaali, and SingReader for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you!_

**Please Review: Did you like the insight into Dean's past? Let me know.**


	10. Family Matters

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 10**

_Family Matters_

"I don't think that damn kid is gonna sell, Alistair." Branson hated bringing bad news to his boss. But he needed to know that the Campbell kid looked like he was gonna try and make a go of the ranching business.

Alistair spun around and glared at his second in command. "Then find a weak point and press so hard that he screams."

Branson blinked a couple of times before he said something in response to that. "What is it with you and this Ranch?"

The taller man spun and grabbed Branson around the throat slamming him into the wall. "That's my business. Get that fucking kid in a room with me by the end of the week or I'm going to fire you."

The man getting his throat crushed shivered as he was released. _You weren't fired by Alistair Zanuck…you disappeared_. "I'll get it done."

"Make sure you do." With that Alistair stalked out of the room.

XXXX

Sam kept an eagle eye on Dean as he sat quietly at the counter in the kitchen. He looked pale and he was so quiet. The chocolate chip cookies had been awesome…although none of them had eaten the ones that Ellen said Emery had rolled. Mostly because they'd witnessed the little boy licking his fingers in between every single cookie. Ellen had separated 'Emery's special cookies' and the rest of the batch. His thoughts drifted back over his day so far…

The light was fading as the sun began to set and Sam wondered if he should have gone with Dean to the hospital that morning. He'd argued with Bobby, but the foreman had trumped him when he'd nearly passed out from exhaustion on the way back to the ranch. He'd barely made it through a shower before he was falling asleep in just a towel on his bed. Several hours later he'd woke up to a draft as a light breeze from the ceiling fan caught his naked thighs and he'd shivered. After dressing quickly he'd gone in search of other life forms in the house.

Initially the only living thing in the house outside of him was Charlie the cat. The little tabby was wandering around the kitchen searching for the perfect patch of sunshine for his afternoon nap. The little cat had been trapped inside an old well at the back of the property for days before Sam came across him. He'd assumed that the little guy would be feral and pissed, but the tiny orange cat had curled into him like a warm blanket…and Sam's heart had melted.

"Hey'ya Charlie…" Sam's gaze swept the empty home and he reached down to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Where's everyone else?" The cat meowed and stretched out as he rolled for further attention. Sam smiled and picked him up as he wandered around.

He hadn't been in the house much in the last several weeks. Not since Dean had shown up in his life. The memory of Dean's lips pressed against his had Sam grinning like an idiot and the cat reached up with a paw and ran it along his chin. The loud purring a tangible sign that he approved of Sam hauling him around.

After wandering for a while Ellen had shown back up with Emery and they'd talked while the little boy curried around getting ingredients. And then the knock at the door…and Dean had happened.

Ellen had talked Emery into taking the fresh baked cookies out to Bobby and the other hands. The little boy had tossed a worried glance at his father before he'd grabbed his dinosaur and ran after her.

"He's really taken a shine to Ellen." Dean said with a slight smile.

"Yeah, he has…she kinda does that…Ellen's great."

Sam was grateful for Ellen's sly actions. He'd wanted to talk to Dean alone, but he couldn't exactly send the man's son away…not that he would even if he could. But he really wanted to…he stood and crossed to where Dean was leaning his head in his hands. "You okay?"

Green eyes lifted to meet his and Sam winced at the bruising covering Dean's beautiful face. The smaller man tried to smile and it came out more as a wince. "I will be."

"I was worried about you." Sam explained as he leaned in and ran the tips of his fingers over Dean's jaw.

A hand covered his own and pulled it down to Dean's chest, just above his heart. "I'm fine."

"That's four letter word that I happen to dislike. I had to get an update from Bobby." Sam shook his head. He didn't know how to tell Dean how important he'd become over the past few weeks.

Dean exhaled and pushed to his feet. He wasn't going to sit here and watch Sam beat himself up over something that was beyond his control. He let the comment go and changed the direction of the conversation. "I assume I'm staying here?" At Sam's nod. "Where's my room?"

Sam's breath caught and he swallowed hard. He hadn't really thought about that. He'd assumed that they'd be staying in the same room. But as he looked at the drawn face of the other man he changed his mind. "Up the stairs there's a room next to mine…it used to be my sisters."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is it pink? Please don't say it's pink." The look of horror on his face had Sam biting his lips to keep from laughing like an idiot.

A smile worked its way onto Sam's face and he chuckled. "No." Before Dean could shoot back a snarky retort, he finished. "Gwen was into the color purple." A loud groan resounded through the kitchen as they started up the stairs. "And unicorns….lots of unicorns."

"You're not helping." Dean replied in exasperation.

"I wasn't trying to." Sam shot back.

"What about Emery?"

"There's another room right across from yours. It was a guest room for our cousins when they visited. My dad always thought he'd have more children…but there was just me and Gwen." Sam walked Dean across the hall and smiled when he heard the soft whistle of surprise.

Dean's gaze took in the small jungle gym and the bright blue racecar bed. "I suppose it was over kill. But my cousins loved it." There was a small children's tent in the corner and a toy box overflowing with every kind of toy under the sun.

"I bet. I might not get him back into his own bed." Dean said in envy as he turned around and ran smack into Sam's broad chest. He bit his lip as he looked up into the please face of the taller man. Their eyes met and Sam couldn't stop the impulse to lean in and kiss Dean.

He felt the other man melt into the contact and he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist to keep him on his feet. The soft movement of his lips was sending tingles of pleasure racing through Dean and that was warring with his pain levels. The medication was wearing off and he could feel his stomach sparking in a not so gentle reminder of his injury.

The quiet groan of longing that worked its way up out of Dean's chest made Sam's heart jump with desire. He wanted Dean…in a way that he'd never wanted anyone before. He deepened the kiss, pressing harder into the other man's luscious lips. His tongue darted out and ghosted along the lower lip. Dean's mouth opened and Sam pressed deeper as he got his first real taste of Dean…and it was _Oh my God good…_it was like trying heroine for the first time. He wanted more. The instant craving blew all other thoughts out of his head as he pulled Dean's body closer to his.

The slight whimper of pain had Sam breaking away, his eyes staring down in concern. "Did I hurt you?" He hadn't meant for his own need to get so out of control. But Dean's mere presence did something to him that defied reason.

Dean smiled and shook his head. "I just…I can't…" He looked down at his body in disgust. "Not yet."

"What? No…I wasn't gonna push it that far…I'm sorry Dean…" Sam stepped away. He needed to put some distance between them. The obvious erection in his jeans was making him blush when Dean's good eye dropped.

Dean reached out and took Sam's hand placing the palm against his own arousal. The blue-green gaze flashed up to Dean's own desire filled eyes. "Me too…I just…I can't. Not like this."

"We'll take it slow." Sam assured him. And Dean laughed.

"I don't _want_ to take it slow, Sam. But…" He pointed at his side. "It hurts like hell. I don't think I'd be able to concentrate."

Sam latched onto that. "And I definitely want your full attention."

"You'll have it."

"I know."

XXXX

"I found him."

A growl from the other end of the line was the only answer.

"He and the boy are in Texas." The man looked over at a cow chewing its cud on the side of the dirt road. A tumbleweed rolled by in the light wind, catching on a cattle guard several yards in front of his black SUV.

"I want him alive."

"I'm aware of the terms of the contract, sir."

"And I want the boy. Figure out how to get Winchester here without the boy knowing there's something wrong."

"Sir, that complicates a simple snatch and grab."

"I am paying you a crapload of money to do what I say. Figure it out. Blackmail, threaten someone out there…I don't care. I don't wan the little boy affected."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Smith? I want it done by the end of the week. Or I'm sending in another retriever."

Smith clenched his jaw. "I'll handle it sir."

XXXX

Gwen inhaled as her family home came into view. She hadn't seen Sam since the funeral and her brother had barely spoken to her. She'd been angry with the reading of the will. That their father hadn't trusted her enough to leave the day to day operations of the ranch in her and Christian's hands. They'd done a good job so far…they deserved a shot at making it work.

She put the truck in park and climbed out, reaching in to grab her purse before heading into the house. It was early and she knew that her brother probably wasn't up yet. Coffee was sitting in the pot, which meant that Bobby had been up here already. She could smell it as she walked through the entryway.

A man she didn't know was standing in the kitchen. A pair of loose jogging pants, bare feet, and maroon Stanford t-shirt. And he definitely wasn't her brother.

"Why may I ask are you standing in my kitchen?" She raised an eyebrow when he turned around. The man was beat the hell up…a white bandage over his left cheekbone, a serious set of black eyes, bruises all along his arms, and he was hunched over like he was in pain. But he was also one of the best looking _beat-the-hell-up_ guys that she'd ever seen.

He opened his mouth a few times before anything came out. "Uh…sorry. I was just getting a cup of coffee?" He held up the mug like it was a defense strategy.

"I can see that. Who the hell are you and where is my brother?" Her brown eyes flickered to the staircase.

"I'm Dean…Dean Winchester. I work for Bobby." His voice was raspy and deep and kinda sexy, but this was an inquisition not a speed date.

"That doesn't answer why you're in the main house, _Dean_."

"I think you better talk with Sam." He pointed toward the stairs. "You're his sister, Gwen?"

She straightened her shoulders. "You know a lot about me and I still don't know why you are in this house, in my brother's clothes at…" She looked at a very expensive watch. "…5:30 in the morning."

"I stayed here last night." Dean watched as first confusion and then disgust rolled across her face.

"I can't believe he brought one of you home. My dad would roll over in his grave." The words were harsh and edged with bitter anger.

Dean didn't know what to say to that. He'd assumed that Sam had told his family about his sexual preferences…but judging by his sister's reaction, he'd never actually brought anyone home before. He wasn't ashamed of who and what he was…but he wasn't going to make trouble for Sam either.

"I'll get my things and be on my way."

She glared at him. "You do that. And please leave through the back entrance…we don't need the other hands to see you walking out of here this early." Gwen's arms folded across her chest defiantly. "Wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea about you and my baby brother."

Dean shook his head. "No…we wouldn't want that."

**Author's Note: **_Scenes from the next chapter: __**"**__Sam stretched and then groaned when his side pulled and he remembered that he had tape over his bruised ribs. Charlie yowled next to him and he reached over to rub the tabby's ears. He grabbed his alarm clock and nearly dropped it. It was 9:38 in the morning and Bobby was gonna kick his ass for sleeping in. He threw the blankets back and grabbed his t-shirt, throwing it over his head before rushing to Dean's room. It was empty, so was Emery's. Sam frowned before stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen…and that's where he froze._

_Seated at the breakfast bar was Gwen. She was watching him as he rounded the corner and she wasn't pleased. He started to say something, but she cut him off._

"_I met Dean."_

_Sam's breath caught in his chest and his throat tightened in concern. "What did you say to him?"_

_Gwen shrugged. "Not much…he left hours ago.""_

_Thank you for mb64, LeeMarieJack, samisnotevil, redyellowgreeandblue, need2no, Miuda22, and redcheeks28 for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you!_

**Please Review: It's the only request I make…please review. **


	11. Devotion

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 11**

_Devotion_

Sam stretched and then groaned when his side pulled and he remembered that he had tape stretching over his bruised ribs. He debated for all of fifteen seconds whether or not he should just pull the covers further up under his chin. _It was awesome under the warmth of the large blanket._

Charlie yowled next to him and he reached over to rub the tabby's ears. He grabbed his alarm clock and nearly dropped it. It was 9:38 in the morning and Bobby was so gonna kick his ass for sleeping in. He threw the heavy blankets back grabbing his t-shirt and throwing it over his head before rushing to Dean's room. It was eerily silent in the house and he furrowed his eyebrows as he listened. There should be _some_ sounds…from Emery if nothing else; the little boy seemed to be pretty vocal.

Sam pushed the heavy wooden door of Dean's room open; his eyes scanning the large bed before he noticed it was empty. He crossed quickly to the boy's room and found that Emery's was also vacant. Sam frowned before stumbling hurriedly down the stairs and into the kitchen…and that's where he froze. He's assumed that Dean would be there…he was wrong.

Seated at the breakfast bar was Gwen. She was wearing a very expensive suit and drinking the last of the coffee from one of the bright mugs. The smell of perfume was overwhelming as he bit back his initial response to the scent…it smelled like his mother. Gwen had obviously been watching for him and as he rounded the corner she made it clear she wasn't pleased. He started to say something, but she cut him off in a biting tone.

Gwen's voice had always been a bit on the nasal side and when she was angry, it was like nails on a chalkboard. "I met _Dean._"

Sam's breath caught in his chest and his throat tightened in concern. "What did you say to him?"

Gwen shrugged. "Not much…but he left hours ago."

"What do you mean, 'he left'?" Fear was threading its way through his entire body and all Sam could see was Dean's green eyes. He knew his sister and she could be a real _bitch_. And she hated anything to do with bisexual, gay, or anything that she thought was _unnatural._

She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "Grabbed his things and took off." She lifted angry brown eyes in his direction. "He never should have been here in the first place, Sam." The words were dripping in venom as she glared at her younger brother.

Shock was the first thing to resonate through his brain. The second was anger. "That wasn't your decision, Gwen." He ground out through clenched teeth as he ran his fingers through his hair in agitation…_old habit_.

"No. It was dads! You don't bring _them_ home, Sam. Ever! That was the rule. He let you get away with _everything_! Just cuz he died doesn't mean that ONE rule changed." She was seething inside. And Gwen knew that she was hurting her little brother…and it wasn't intentional…but rules were rules! And damn-it, this had been one of their father's hard and fast rules. This was Texas for crying out loud! One didn't flaunt their perverted sexual preferences! Not if that person wanted to be accepted among the wealthy and influential. She looked around the house, and right now they _needed_ all the wealthy and influential friends they could find.

Sam's jaw clenched like a rubber band about to break and he stared at his sister in horror_. Had she really just said that? _ He honestly hadn't thought that his sister had a problem with gays. Oh he knew his father had had a problem…which was why he was so surprised when Bobby had been so accepting. Sam had just assumed that the foreman would share his father's aversion to anything that didn't fit into his very limited view on life. But he honestly hadn't expected it from his big sister.

The light filtering through the windows suddenly looked darker and the room less inviting as he abruptly felt like a stranger in his own home. Sam bit his lip between his teeth and shook his head at the rejection. Fast on the heels of the rejection though was anger…

"Gwen, I can't deal with you right now and I need to explain things to Dean. Did he at least say where he was going?" Shame burned behind his eyes as he stared at his only remaining family. He'd hoped that the death of their father might bring them closer together, maybe bridge the gap that had formed after their mother died. But as he stared at the icy cold veneer that his sister wore like a mantel, he knew that that wasn't going to happen…and his heart broke a little at that.

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "I'd forget about him for now, Sam. We have bigger fish to fry. Alistair Zanuck is turning up the heat. We have a meeting on Tuesday and you need to be there, since I can't speak for the ranch. Unless, you want to sign a power of attorney and Christian can take over at the meeting?" She saw the immediate hardening of her brother's gaze as he lifted his head defiantly. "…thought not. So you _have_ to be there."

He was saved from answering when the back door creaked open and Bobby stepped inside. He had his chicken mug all ready for a piping hot cup of joe when he noticed them. "Don't mind me, just looking for a refuel." His blue eyes narrowed in irritation when he figured out the pot was empty. "Thought I taught the two of you better…letting the coffee run out on a ranch…that's grounds for being drawn and quartered…"

Bobby took in the scene and frowned. "I interrupt a funeral I wasn't invited to?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I was just leaving." He turned and started back toward the stairs. "You seen Dean this morning?" He called before he disappeared around the corner.

"Yup, sent him into town for some salt blocks for the south range. Why?" Bobby stepped around the corner and raised his eyebrows.

"So, he's in town?"

"That's what I said…" Bobby finally figured out there was something wrong between Sam and Gwen. "What's going on here, Sam?" He gestured to the seat that Gwen had vacated.

"Same old shit…" Sam muttered. His hand running through his hair in a nervous habit that Bobby knew all too well.

"No…it ain't the same shit…what'd I miss this morning?" Bobby pulled his ball cap off so he could see Sam better in the low light of the hallway.

Pain smeared across Sam's face and he inhaled slowly. "My sister thinks I'm some kinda pariah, my father hated me…and Dean? I don't honestly know what he thinks." The words just broke loose and he was helpless to stop them. Sam sank down onto the bench under the mirror. "I'm doing the best I can Bobby, but I feel like I'm just screwing everything up."

"Geeze boy…life's about making mistakes. Yer supposed to screw up. It's what makes you human." He patted Sam's shoulder and sank down next to him. "Sam, yer daddy wasn't the nicest man…and he had some stiff views on the world…" Bobby's eyebrows drew together as he thought. "But he loved you boy…don't ever doubt that. Samuel just wasn't very good at showing it."

Sam pulled in a shaky breath and bumped his shoulder against Bobby's. "You would've been an awesome father, Bobby."

The old man snorted. "I know. But instead I got handed you…and you turned out pretty darn good."

"Thanks." Sam stood and swallowed. He needed to go track down Dean. "I think I'm gonna head into town and try to straighten out some things with Dean." He glanced in the direction his sister had taken. "Pretty sure he got an earful this morning."

Bobby's face darkened. "I bet he did. Check out Peterson's Supply on Rubble drive."

"I'll catch up with you this afternoon." A thought occurred to Sam and he had to force the words past his lips. "Is Emery with Ellen or did Dean take him into town too?" His heart was climbing into his throat at the thought that Dean might actually have packed up and taken off. The man had spent the last several years moving undetected from place to place. Sam wasn't sure that he could track Winchester down if the guy didn't want to be found.

"He's with Dean today." Bobby's words ripped into Sam's chest and he found his breathing was constricted with a swirl of emotions. He nodded and turned away before the foreman could see the sheen in his burning eyes.

_Damn-it Dean! You better not have taken off on me._

XXXX

Gwen's words kept ringing through Dean's skull as he drove. He'd promised Emery that he'd take him to the supply store so he could pick out a new toy. The work schedule and his injuries had kept him so busy that the kid was starting to question why they didn't _hang_ out together anymore. And Dean's heart had nearly broken at the question. _Of course they still hung out._ But as he considered his son's innocent request, Dean realized that 'no' they hadn't. Not since he'd taken the job at the ranch.

And frankly? With Gwen still slinking around, Dean didn't want his son anywhere near that place if he wasn't in the immediate area. He didn't trust the woman. He'd thought about leaving after the encounter that morning, but something about her had set off his internal warning bells and he wasn't willing to leave Sam. So he'd decided that he would go to town and hopefully the bitch would be gone when he and Emery got back. But he wasn't staying in the main house ever again.

There was no way that Dean was going to subject himself to any unannounced visits from ice queens before 6am…and at least a pot of coffee. So yeah…no more sleep overs in that monstrosity of a _home_. The pain in his side was moderate today and he'd only taken half a pain-pill first thing that morning. His head was a little achy, but nothing that he couldn't work through. The stitches in his cheek were pulling slightly, but other than that he was feeling okay.

Emery was staring happily out the window in the backseat. His fingers brushing along his dinosaur like Dr. Evil petting Mr. Bigglesworth…that thought make Dean smile. Speaking of that…they should watch that one soon…

'Don't fear the reaper' was rolling gently from the speakers and the wind was whipping through the open windows and it was cool and refreshing. Sometimes Dean forgot how much he loved to just drive and listen to music…the air swirling through the car and whisking his troubles away. Okay, so none of his troubles were going anywhere….but, he could pretend that he wasn't running for his life…and Emery's. Or that he hadn't gone and gotten himself romantically entangled with Sam.

The first stoplight headed into town-blinked red in front of him and Dean frowned. The light was almost always green…but he pushed off the oddity of the light to complications because of the previous storm. Dean was distracted, so he ended up missing the light blue car that slid in behind him. His thoughts were centered on Sam and the potential for both a relationship and the problems with Sam's family. He'd seen first hand how easily their family could manipulate a person and he didn't want to be put in that position ever again.

Losing Lisa had been one of the most difficult things he'd ever had to deal with…on some levels he wasn't sure that he ever _really _had dealt with it. His eyes flickered to the mirror and he smiled at the little boy sitting in the back seat. Emery's smile had him grinning at the child and then turning his eyes back to the road. He flipped on the blinker when the turn off came up and slowed to angle into the parking lot. The blue car slipped past his notice once again as it headed further up the road.

XXXX

Sam's borrowed truck was rumbling down the highway as he tried to center his drifting thoughts on the road and not a certain pair of green eyes. He hadn't realized just how much he thought about Dean over the course of the day. Maybe it was because they were working together on a more constant basis now…he wasn't sure. Either way, he needed to concentrate on the freaking road or Bobby was gonna beat him when he totaled the foreman's truck.

A blue car raced past him, he barely noticed it as the Impala came into view. It was parked at the feed store and Sam's heart kicked up a bit at the thought of seeing the owner. He turned off the engine after parking and inhaled slowly in an effort to keep his emotions from shining on his face like a beacon.

Emery's blonde head bobbed past the glass front door and Sam couldn't help but smile. The kid was grinning from ear to ear, his dinosaur in one hand and plastic horse in the other. Apparently he was getting a new toy today. Which explained why Dean had brought him.

A small part of Sam wondered what it would be like to be responsible for another human on that level. What it would feel like to have someone trust you so completely…he'd never had that…and until that moment he hadn't realized that he was craving that kind of intimacy.

The wind pulled gently at his hair as he stepped out of the truck and headed into feed store. The smell of the sagebrush wafted through the air he found himself taking deep breaths. The bell above the door announced his entrance.

"Hey Sam." Bill Meyer's called from behind the counter. The man was probably a million years old, but he was so spry that no one actually had a clue as to the man's real age. Ageless gray eyes followed him as he waived and wandered into the back looking for Dean.

"Sam?" The husky quality of Dean's voice sent a flood of tingles running up and down Sam's spine. He spun around, finding himself woefully unprepared to deal with the intensity of the smaller man's gaze. "What are you doing here?"

Sam shrugged. "I…uh…" He glanced at the over eager ears of the man behind the counter. "Can we talk outside?" Frankly, he didn't want to air their uniquely troubled relationship in front of anyone. Especially, when he didn't even know what _it_ was at this point?

"Sure…" He looked over where Emery was engrossed in some roping video in front of the tack section. "Emery?" The little boy glanced up distractedly.

"Yeah?" His eyes kept shifting back to the screen.

"You okay for a minute? I gotta talk to Sam." Dean watched as the little boy pulled his gaze back and smiled.

Emery waived at Sam. "Yup. I'm good." His focus shifted back to the TV, his horse clomping on the tile as he _played_ along with the video.

Dean gestured toward the door. Sam nodded and headed toward the parking lot. He ignored the pained look as Dean pushed the heavy glass door open. Sam knew from experience that most guys didn't like being called out when they were in pain. But everything in his heart wanted to ask. He forced himself to stay silent.

The smaller man walked to his car and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest and waiting for Sam to start the conversation.

Long strands of brown hair fluttered across his face and Sam reached up to push them out of the his eyes and tried to figure out how to start this conversation. "Um…Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean's green eyes narrowed and he tilted his head in confusion. "For what?"

Sam's expression shifted to incredulous. "You know what for…I'm sorry for Gwen. You didn't deserve that."

"That wasn't your fault, Sam. Besides, it's not the first time I've been on the receiving end of something like that." His eyes drifted for a moment as he slipped into something from his past. A moment later he shook his head and his gaze refocused on Sam.

_God, I want to know where he goes when that happens._ The thought imprinted itself on Sam's brain as he watched the other man. He wanted to know _everything_ about Dean.

"I should've at least warned you. But I honestly didn't think my sister had such hard time with it." _Or that she'd show up at 5:30 in the morning._

"It?" Dean questioned.

Sam shook his head and sighed. "Us."

"Oh." Dean's answers were short and to the point. It was a little frustrating for someone like Sam that wanted talk pretty much everything out.

"So…are you sticking around?" His blue-green gaze went blank as he tried to school his emotions. A part of him didn't want Dean to know how much it would kill him if the man decided to leave…and a part of him didn't give a rat's ass.

"You know…you keep asking me that." Dean said with a slowly dawning smile. He stepped forward and ran his fingers down Sam's jaw. Fire raced along the tracks of his fingers and Sam found that he couldn't look away.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

Strong fingers wrapped around his neck and regardless of who might be watching he pulled the taller man down for a chaste kiss before leaning away and staring into his surprised face. "What do you think?"

Sam grinned and nodded with realization.

Dean wasn't done yet. "But I'm not staying in that house again. So if you wanna be around me, you'll have to come out to the bungalow. I'm not taking the chance that Emery hears any of that crap." His voice dropped and went from friendly to icy cold as the mask slid firmly into place.

It took a moment for Sam's brain to latch onto the shift. It was so smooth, like Dean was putting on a new t-shirt. It was just like the action of sliding the material over his head and Dean shifted into another person…one that Sam didn't feel he knew at all. Once again he found himself desperate to know why Dean had developed what was obviously a very practiced survival mechanism.

He finally found his voice. "I wouldn't ask you to…I hope you now that." Sam was astonished as the mask lifted instantly and Dean's warm forest green gaze held his as desire flooded through it.

"I hoped you'd say that." His face shifted toward the feed store and he smiled. "How about I cook us up some amazing steaks tonight…and you bring the beer?" It was apparent he was searching for the top of the boy's blonde head before he turned back toward Sam. Emery was in the same place.

Sam found his gaze dropping as he felt the full force of Dean Winchester's charisma. "Yeah…yeah, I can do that."

"What do you say we grab the salt blocks, which are going in your truck by the way, and Emery and head back to the ranch?" Dean's eyebrows wriggled playfully and Sam couldn't help the laughter the bubbled up. His dimples digging deep swaths in his cheeks as he grinned.

As they turned back toward the store, a passing car rumbled by…neither of them noticing that it was the a blue sedan…

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Scenes from the next chapter: "The beer was warming as Dean's hands slid along the ropey muscles of Sam's back. The evening air was crisp and cool so they'd moved back into the house once the sun dropped behind the hill. Both of them were still suffering from their encounter in the desert, but neither could keep their fingers off the other. No words were exchanged as Dean gently pulled away, grabbing Sam's hand and leading him toward his bedroom."_

_**Thank you**__ for mb64, LeeMarieJack, samisnotevil, redyellowgreeandblue, Elma.1972, need2no, Miuda22, and redcheeks28 for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you!_

**Please Review: Just wanna make sure you guys still want this one continued…**


	12. Hunted

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 12**

_Hunted_

The smell that was floating in off the grill had Sam's mouth watering. One thing about Dean? The man was a gourmet cook with charcoal briquettes, seasoning, and steak. Sam and Emery were staring at the television. The little boy had managed to talk him into watching Turbo…it was some show about a racing snail. The kid was chattering the entire time, explaining why the snail was so fast and how he wanted to be in the Indy 500.

Sam hadn't quite gotten that initially. _Why would a snail be allowed to participate in a race for cars?_ He'd made the mistake of asking Emery about and the kid had actually snorted at him...cheeky little twirp. Sam thought fondly.

"Sam…he's _fast _snail. He can beat all those stupid cars. He can under them and around them. Duh…" The child was looking at Sam like he'd just defamed a famous monument or something. Dean chose that exact moment to step through the kitchen door. He couldn't help the smirk that worked its way onto his face at the comment.

_He knew this side of his son…and Sam was never gonna live it down if he didn't step in_.

"Emery…Sam hasn't seen the movie. He doesn't know that Turbo got super speed from a nitrous charged Mustang." Dean's gravelly voice lightened as he chuckled. "Play nice. Or he might not watch cartoons with you anymore."

"But daaaad…he should know these things." The boy's voice turned whiny and Dean tilted his head in reproof. Emery sat up and pursed his lips. "Fine." He turned to Sam. "Sorry, Sam."

"It's okay buddy. I'm gonna go help your dad with the food." He reached down and ruffled the child's hair before silently thanking Dean for the 'save'.

As they stepped outside Sam shook his head. "He always take things so seriously?"

"His cartoons?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"Yup. They're very important to him. So I'd brush up on every cartoon since the 1980's." He couldn't help but laugh at the dumbfounded look on Sam's face.

"Seriously? The 1980's?" Now _his_ voice sounded whiny. That was a shit load of cartoons.

"Pay close attention to Transformers, Ninja Turtles, and He-Man…ignore She-Ra. Emery hasn't learned to appreciate the female form yet." He reached around Sam and grabbed the tongs. His arm brushing against Sam's ass on accident...sorta.

Dean's green eyes lifted to meet Sam's gaze and he smiled. "I'm not sorry." As he stepped away from the other man to flip the steaks.

"For what?" Sam queried.

"Taking advantage of that and getting to touch you." Dean's voice dropped and then picked up a husky quality that was doing something awesome to the inside of Sam.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He asked as he leaned over Dean's shoulder. His breath brushing gently against the shorter man's ear. When his breathing increased and he finally nodded, Sam continued. "I'd let you take advantage of me any day."

Dean groaned and leaned back against Sam's broad chest. "I swear, you're gonna be the death of me."

"God, I hope not." Sam said somewhat seriously.

"Figure of speech, Sammy."

"Well, it's a bad one."

The steaks were sizzling and the corn on the cob was boiling on the stove. Dean had even gone out of his way to make some chicken kabobs. The aroma of the food was making Sam's stomach growl in anticipation. But the way Dean was 'toying' with him was making other parts of him…_well he was definitely getting the picture here._ They were both in this thing.

Sam took a chance and leaned in, allowing his lips to ghost over the exposed skin of Dean's neck. When the other man tilted his head away, giving Sam better access he slipped his tongue between his lips and pulled Dean's earlobe between his teeth. Suddenly he could feel hands reaching back and running along the muscles of his thighs and he had to remind himself to breathe.

"Oh God…Sammy…" Dean's tone sounded like liquid sex as he almost moaned. He stepped forward just a touch, breaking the contact and Sam frowned. "The steaks are gonna burn…" Dean said by way of explanation.

Sam's gaze dropped and he had to admit that the meat was looking a little dark at the edges. He chuckled. "Can't have that." He said as he pressed a quick kiss under Dean's ear. "I'll go check on Emery and leave you to the cooking."

"Great, how'd I become the girl here?" Dean groaned.

"Just lucky I guess." Sam tossed over his shoulder.

Dean spun around and enveloped Sam in strong arms and pulled his lips down. He moved with an ease and a practiced grace that left Sam stunned as he felt Dean's tongue slide along his lower lip. As soon as they slid apart, the man's tongue darted inside and he proceeded to kiss all coherent thought out of Sam's head. When he was sure that he had the taller man nearly senseless he pulled away. "Now you can go check on Emery."

"That was just mean." Sam said playfully as he slapped Dean on the ass and headed into the house.

Dinner went off without a hitch. They'd sat and watched the sunset and then read to Emery before he went to bed. Sam had smiled as he'd heard Dean slip in and out of the strange little voices that must have been characters in the story. The more he learned about the man, the more he found himself falling for him.

They were sitting on the couch later that night and their beers were getting warm as Dean's hands slid along the ropey muscles of Sam's back. The evening air had been crisp and cool so they'd moved back into the house once the sun dropped behind the hill. Both of them were still suffering from their encounter in the desert, but neither one of them could keep their fingers off the other. No words were exchanged as Dean gently pulled away, grabbing Sam's hand and leading him toward his bedroom.

XXXX

"You saw him today?"

"Yes."

A pause. "And how did the boy look?"

"Healthy."

"Good. Bring him back to me."

XXXX

Dean stared at the ceiling listening to Sam breathe. He glanced over at the taller man and smiled. They hadn't done anything more than lie on his bed and languidly kiss, running their fingers up and down each other. It wasn't that he didn't want more…or that Sam didn't want more. But neither of them was healthy yet and Dean refused to do this half way. Sam was too important for some 'wham bam thank you ma'am' romp in the sack.

He looked over at the alarm clock and sighed. It was 6:10 in the morning…which meant that the diner up the road would have fresh hot coffee, bacon, pancakes, and he could pick up something for Emery and Sam. A frown touched his eyes when he realized that there wasn't anything he could serve for breakfast in the house. He needed to hit up the store this week.

The covers slipped back as the carefully rolled out of bed. His jogging pants brushing the floor as he hissed at the cold hardwood. Dean grabbed a pen and piece of paper and quickly penned a note to Sam.

_Sammy, I'm running into town to grab some grub…be back soon. Sleep as long as you like. I took Emery so the house is yours. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. –Dean_

Dean grabbed a t-shirt from the closet and threw it over his head before heading toward Emery's room. The little boy was sitting up watching television. He cast bright eyes in Dean's direction and jumped from the bed.

"We going somewhere?" He asked excitedly.

"Yup, but keep it down…Sam's asleep." Dean said as he grabbed some boots and handed them to the little boy.

"You had a sleep over?" The innocent question caught Dean off guard and it took him a moment to figure out how to answer it.

He hadn't really thought of it that way. But they hadn't actually done anything other than sleep. "Uh…yeah. I guess we did."

"Cool."

XXXX

The morning was a little brisk. So Dean grabbed a large sweatshirt and tucked it around Emery as he started the car. A few moments later he was headed down the dusty road into town. He smiled at the little boy as he sang along with the song on the radio. An oldie but a goodie, some Credence Clearwater surrounding them in epic music at the ungodly hour.

"So, I was thinking we could get some pancakes from the diner. What do you think?"

Emery's face lit up like a Christmas tree and he grinned a wide toothy smile. "I love pancakes!"

"I know you do."

"Can I have chocolate Chios in mine? Like the way you make them?" Emery was so hopeful that Dean would've put the chips in himself if they didn't have the. on the menu.

"Absolutely."

Fifteen minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot at Cid's Roadside Diner. Dean parked next to a small blue sedan and pulled Emery from the car. He inhaled the morning air and couldn't help the smile. It had been months since he'd felt safe. And for whatever reason he _felt _safe here in Texas.

Emery squirmed in his arms when he saw the gumball machine near the register. He set the boy down and he went bouncing toward the brightly colored plastic bulb of large gumballs. He was soon distracted by an arcade game.

"What can I get ya, hon." An older woman asked as she smiled warmly at Dean and her eyes twinkled when she saw Emery.

"A table and an order to go?" He kept his eyes on the little boy as she led him toward an empty booth. Dean slid in as she handed him a menu. "Coffee?"

"You bet. Be back in a jiff." The woman with the name 'Debbie' on her name tag headed for the pot of black coffee. A moment later Dean was taking his first sip of dark black coffee and he sighed in pleasure.

A man slid into the seat across from him and he looked up in confusion. "You lost?"

"Nope. I'm not lost. But, you and I need to have a chat." The man was tall, nearly as tall as Sam. He had dark eyes and light skin. A shock of light brown hair capped off an otherwise unremarkable face. But something about him had Dean sitting up straighter in the seat.

"And what exactly do we have to talk about?" Dean was looking for any exits and he was trying to keep Emery in his vision as well.

The man tilted his head to the side like Dean should already know the answer to that question. "Shouldn't have taken the boy when you left Dean."

Dean's jaw clenched and he scrambled to his feet. He heard the click of a pistol under the table and when he looked over he saw another man talking to Emery. Someone he definitely _didn't_ know. The man's eyes flickered up and smiled maliciously at Dean. Before he dropped his gaze back to the boy.

"Sit down, Dean." The man across from him hadn't moved.

He sank back into his seat as he heart flew into his throat. They'd found him.

"There are some people that would really like to talk to you."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. He was trying to keep his one eye on the man in front of him and the other on Emery. "I'm sure there are."

"I think you know who I'm talking about." The man smiled amicably and Dean felt like he'd just had ice water poured over his head.

"So what happens if I resist?"

The man leaned forward and then looked over his shoulder Emery. "I really don't think you wanna resist, Dean. I only need the boy…alive. You're a bonus."

That got Dean's wheels turning in his head. "You're a hired gun."

"What can I say…you're a valuable commodity…or should I say, the boy's a valuable item."

Dean shook his head. "You gonna give me a name here asshole?"

The man's eyes narrowed he leaned forward causing Dean to lean back. "I'm the guy that's gonna collect on that reward. And I can do that with you alive or in the trunk of my car. Take your pick."

He swallowed hard and looked down. The other man was too close to Emery, he couldn't protect the boy and this douchebag definitely had a gun on him under the table. His thoughts shifted to Sam. He wasn't going to know what happened. The only thing that Sam would know is that he went into town and then took off. And that would break the other man.

Dean didn't know a lot about Sam at this point, but he knew if the other man was feeling half what he was, then this was gonna hurt like hell. He threw on a fake smile, his hands were tied as long as they had Emery. "When do we leave?"

"I'd heard you could be reasonable. And I heard that you're damn good at your job. So the boy stays with my partner, in the other car, and I stay with you." He held his hand up when Dean immediately protested. "Not negotiable."

"You son of a bitch…." Dean seethed. He could feel the vein popping out on his forehead as the anger flooded his system.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Scenes from the next chapter: "It was three o'clock in the afternoon and Dean hadn't come back. He wouldn't answer his cell phone and no one had seen him since the previous night. Sam was worried. He'd driven into town; Dean's car was nowhere to be found. So he'd driven over to the diner and Debbie said that Dean had been there several hours earlier. But he'd left pretty quickly with another man._

_Sam's blood ran cold. Dean left? That couldn't be right. Who would've come looking for Dean…unless. Oh shit…"_

_**Thank you for the awesome response: Thanks**__ mb64, LeeMarieJack, LyleRay, whiteraven67, lydiann, Tricia, Danni99981, Dark Lilith87, redyellowgreeandblue, carolina888, ajaali, Estelio nin, samisnotevil, LoveYourself845, and redcheeks28 for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you! And I'll hurry with the next chapter…more reviews, faster chapter._

**Please Review: Cliffie…please take a second and give me a review.**


	13. Who is Dean Winchester

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 13**

_Who is Dean Winchester_

An unfamiliar smell wafted through the air and he Sam found himself inhaling as a smile worked its way onto his face. Dean's cologne was unlike anything he'd ever smelled. It was a strange mix of soap and something else…something was all Dean.

Sam rolled over and nearly fell off the bed. His change in equilibrium had him flailing as he sat up so quickly his head spun. _Or maybe it's the alcohol from last night. _ A slight buzz reminded him of how much they'd both drank and he dreaded opening his eyes.

He blinked slowly and rubbed at his eyes when he didn't recognize the room. _Deans…I'm in Dean's room._ He swallowed and looked around for the other man…when he didn't see anything he leaned over and a smiled pulled at his lips when he saw the note.

After reading it, he hauled himself out of the bed and headed into the bathroom. He found some mouthwash and went through the morning ritual as much as he could. Once he was finished he wandered through the house.

Sam found himself wanting to look through Dean's pictures…or anything that might be personal…but the more he wandered through the house the less he found. There was nothing in this house that could lead him to learning more about Dean. His eyebrows cut down at that. _What was Dean hiding?_

He peaked into Emery's room and thinned his lips. There were tons of things that were obviously personal in the child's room. But there were no pictures of him and Dean…or him and his mother. Sam thought that was a little odd…but he kept looking. When an hour passed he found that he was getting a little concerned. It shouldn't take this long to pick up something from the diner.

Sam tried to find something on TV to keep himself entertained. He wasn't willing to leave until the other man got back and they could sit down and talk about last night. It was apparent that there was something between them and he wanted to iron out exactly what that meant.

By the time it was three o'clock in the afternoon and Dean hadn't come back, Sam was climbing the walls. The other man wouldn't answer his cell phone and no one had seen him since the previous night. Sam was more than a little worried. He'd finally broken down and driven into town; Dean's car was nowhere to be found.

So Sam had driven over to the diner and Debbie said that Dean had been there several hours earlier. But he'd left pretty quickly with another man.

"Did he look like he knew the guy?" Sam asked quietly.

Debbie shrugged. "It was pretty busy this morning, Sam. I wasn't really paying that much attention." She was just starting to walk away when she suddenly turned back as though just remembering something. "The little boy seemed to know the other guy."

Sam's blood ran cold. "Emery? Someone was talking to him?"

"Yeah, big guy. A little creepy looking, he had a scar on his face." Debbie filled Sam's coffee and patted him on the arm when another set of customers walked through the door. "I gotta go help them. You gonna be okay, sweetie?"

Sam bit at his lower lip and nodded lightly. _Dean left?_ That couldn't be right. Who would've come looking for Dean…unless. _Oh shit…_ Something pulled at Sam's memory and he tried to catch the drifting thoughts. He couldn't pin it down and it was driving him insane. He drained what was left of his coffee and wandered back out to the car. Now that he didn't need to hide who he was from Dean, he could drive what car he wanted. The keys to his father's restored 57 corvette had been on the end of the hooks on the wall.

He looked at the car and a pang of guilt washed through him. Sam missed his father. They may not have seen eye to eye on a lot of things, but he'd been a good man. And the potential loss of Dean was casting another dark shadow over everything else right now.

He pulled his cell phone and quickly dialed Bobby's number. "Hey Bobby."

"Sam…any sign of Dean?" Bobby's gruff voice was low and compassionate as he waited for an answer. He knew Sam was suffering and he didn't want to make it worse.

Sam looked at the ground and kicked at a rock in the dirt before answering. "No. It's like he just up and disappeared. He…he didn't give you any clue as to where he was from…did he?" It was a straw…but Sam was grasping at anyways.

"No…I'm sorry, he didn't.

"Yeah…I didn't think so." Sam mumbled as he pulled the door open and sank in the butter soft white leather. "How do I find him, Bobby?"

A loud inhale of air preceded Bobby's answer. "I got a friend…names Rufus Turner…guy's a drunk and an asshole, but he can track anyone. Might be part bloodhound, not sure."

"What? Wait, are you saying he can find Dean?" Sam's heart picked speed and he pulled the door of the car shut firing up the engine. "How do I get a hold of him?"

"Whoa, hold yer horses kid. I'm saying that if anyone can find Dean…it's Rufus. But he ain't real friendly so I'd suggest showing up at his place with a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label and see what'cha get." Bobby exhaled and shook his head.

Sam put the car in drive and peeled out of the small diner parking lot. "Text me the address."

"Sam, you need to come back to the ranch, get a better car and a suitcase."

Sam frowned at that. "A suitcase? Why? Where's this guy live, Canada?"

A soft chuckle and then Bobby continued. "No, but it ain't around here. And that car gets shitty gas mileage."

"Fine. I'm on my way."

"Figured. See you in a few…and Sam?" Bobby continued.

"What?" Sam slowed down for the stoplight and then turned left.

"Dean might not wanna be found." A pained breath. "Be prepared for that." Bobby hated saying it to the kid. But he didn't want Sam to get hurt and Dean? He could really hurt Sam.

XXXX

Dean was fuming. He was angry at himself for letting his guard down and staying in Texas. Normally, he never stayed somewhere for more than a week or so…but he'd never met a "Sam Campbell" before. The thought of Emery in the other car was kicking his heart rate up and pissing him off more every time he thought about it. He knew they wouldn't hurt the kid, but he was terrified for Emery.

The son of a bitch that had collected him still hadn't given him a name and now the bastard wasn't speaking to him at all. Dean knew where they were going…back to Chicago. A tremor of fear prickled its way up his spine. _He_ was in so much trouble as soon as they crossed into that damned city. They were gonna make him wish he was dead. He thought ofhe scars littering his body and he knew they were about to get company.

And then there was Sammy…the guy had weaseled his way passed Dean's defenses and now he wasn't sure what to do about that. Because if things went down the way they were likely to…Sam would never know what happened to him. He'd disappear and Emery would be drawn into a world of violence and blood. After all, that was the little guys heritage and no matter how much Dean wished that the kid had been born into a family with a white picket fence…he hadn't been. Emery had been born the grandson of one of the biggest mafia families still operating in the United States.

Dean pulled in a long slow breath as images of his past assaulted him. He finally reached over and rolled his window down in an attempt to keep the Technicolor that was running through his head from pulling him into an unwanted memory.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Winchester." The guy said as he never looked directly at Dean.

His green eyes flickered over to the silent form next to him and Dean had a sudden impulse to chocked the shit outta the guy. Or rip his throat out…or slam on the breaks and send him head first through the windshield. _Dean could always fix the Impala._

But then he'd remember that they had Emery and he'd squash the rage and concentrate. "People are gonna be looking for us." He finally said.

The guys shrugged. "And that should concern me, why?"

"Because I'm like a bad penny. I just keep turning up." Dean quipped.

The bounty hunter finally looked over at him. "Anyone ever tell you that you're not funny?"

Dean straightened. "Plenty of times…but they were all thieves and liars…so I maintain that I'm hilarious."

"Shut your fucking mouth and drive, Winchester."

_Hmmm…so I can get under your skin._ That was useful information and Dean filed it away. Because they were going to have to stop at some point and when they did…he had a few tricks of his sleeve. He hadn't been the number one assassin for the mafia for no reason.

XXXX

Sam's eyes drifted to the clock and a weight descended on his shoulders that was almost painful. Dean and Emery had been missing for more than twenty four hours…and he still had no clue where to look. Bobby didn't know anything more about Dean's past than Sam.

He was just pulling up outside an old cabin. Apparently, Rufus lived pretty far off the grid. He killed the engine and grabbed the brown paper bag with a bottle of Johnny Walker before heading toward the run down steps of the cabin.

The air was crisp and there was a distinctive smell of pine in the air. Sam knew that Montana was awesome, but he couldn't help taking a deep breath and letting his eyelids drop closed in appreciation. The peeling paint on the wrap around porch looked like it was at least twenty years old.

A coyote howled in the distance and Sam steeled his nerves before knocking on the door. A mechanical buzzing sound had him looking for the source. Sam stepped to the side and looked up into a dark crook and shook his head when he saw a small camera staring at him like 'big brother'.

"Who the hell are you?!" A gruff voice crackled over an ancient speaker. Sam's eyes swiveled back around and he stared hard at the small dusty box.

"Uh..Hello?" Sam ventured as he shifted his weight and pulled the bottle from the paper bag.

"Who the hell are you? And how did you find me? You better not be peddling some religious crap kid or I'm gonna shoot you on principle." The voice dropped and got _colder_ if that was even possible.

"My names Sam Campbell, Bobby Singer sent me." He put the bottle in front of the camera. "He said you could help me?"

A click and then the door creaked open. The barrel of a shotgun poking through. Sam's hands came up in a plaintive gesture. "That for me?" The shotgun wielder asked.

"Well it sure ain't for that Mossberg." The shotgun dropped a couple inches and the door widened.

"You say, Bobby Singer?"

Sam was barely able to make out the man's dark eyes in the low light inside the house. "Yes."

A hand shot out and took the bottle and the door opened. "Well, come on in if your coming." A man in his fifties stepped back with the bottle pulled close to his body and allowed Sam to slip past. "I'm guessing you need me to find someone? Bobby don't ever send people my way unless the need my services."

Sam pushed the door shut behind him and cringed at the state of the 'home'. And he used that term loosely. Looking around the dark place, he was barely able to make out anything besides the man's rapidly disappearing form.

"Name's Rufus Turner." Rufus sank into an old wooden chair and immediately opened the bottle, pouring himself a glass. He eyed Sam before deciding that maybe _he_ could use a glass too. "Here."

Sam took the offered drink and briefly wondered if the glass was clean before knocking back the amber colored liquor in a single gulp. "Thanks." He appreciated the burn of the liquid as it coated his insides with courage.

"So why did Bobby send you to me? Who am I looking for?" Rufus drained his own glass and refilled it. Sam couldn't help but notice that he wasn't offered a second glass.

"A friend of mine was taken…and I don't know by who or why. But I do know he's in danger." Sam inhaled and prayed to god that this man could help him.

"You sure he didn't just get sick of looking at you and take off?"

Sam couldn't help being offended by the comment. "Yes. I'm sure."

Rufus shrugged. "Just asking. So this guy, he gotta name?"

"Dean Winchester…and his son Emery."

Rufus nodded. "Okay. Well, give me a few hours and let me see what I can come up with." Sam made no effort to leave. "You got a place to go?"

Sam shook his head.

"Yeah, I thought not." Rufus exhaled slowly. "There's a couch in the other room and a television from the early eighties. Only gets three channels, but I got a dvd player…and some old movies. Make yourself comfortable kid." He stood up and headed into another room off the kitchen and Sam scrubbed his hand down his face.

Sam was startled awake when a hand pushed his legs off the couch and he had the distinct feeling of falling. "Son of a—"

"Kid, you need to let this guy stay gone." Rufus said as he sank into a chair off to Sam's right.

"What?" Sam queried as he ran his hands through his hair.

Rufus shook his head. "This Winchester guy…he's bad news. Let him stay gone."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know anything about this guy do you, kid?" Rufus tossed back another drink of the scotch.

"I know enough. What'd you find out?" Sam found that all exhaustion drained away at the thought of learning something real about Dean.

"This Winchester guy…he's attached to the mafia in Chicago…and that kid? That ain't his kid…he's the heir to the whole mafia shebang." Rufus took another drink and then passed the half empty bottle to Sam. "He's an assassin kid…and he's wanted for the murder of the boy's mother…and at least half a dozen other grisly murders."

Sam felt all the air whoosh from his lungs. _Dean's a killer? That can't be right._ "I don't believe that." He stuttered.

"I can show you the arrest records and the police reports if you want…" Rufus paused and took a long breath before continuing. "But you don't wanna see those. What that guy did to that poor woman…it was sick. Like twisted sick."

Sam's whole world felt like it was crumbling in around him and found that he couldn't say anything. He couldn't have been that far off the mark about Dean…there had to be something that was missing in those files. Because Dean…the Dean he _knew_…couldn't do something like that. He'd seen the man's devastation when talking about Lisa…he'd loved that woman. And Emery? Dean would never hurt that kid. So what was the truth? He didn't know, but he was sure as hell gonna find out.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Scenes from the next chapter: "The knife pressed against Dean's skin with deadly acuracy. He flinched as it dug in and he felt the warm wash of blood dribble down his neck. His eyes widened when Sam was marched into the room. The other man was sorting a seaiously swolen eye and he wouldn't meet Dean's gaze as he was shoved into the chair across from Dean. "Sammy...what're you doing here?" Dean whispered as Jason twined his fingers into Sam's long hair and jerk his head back exposing the tender skin of Sam's neck."_

_**Thank you for the awesome response: Thanks**__ superchiwo, Gina Mark, DearHart, samisnotevil, mb64, Danni99981, whiteraven67, redcheeks28, need2no, Miuda22, and LeeMarieJack for taking a few minutes to let me know you enjoyed the chapter…and any guest reviewers. Thank you! And I'll hurry with the next chapter…more reviews, faster chapter._

**Please Review: Here's a little bit about Dean…please review and I'll give you more.**


	14. Comet Star Motel

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Previous Chapter:**

"Name's Rufus Turner." Rufus sank into an old wooden chair and immediately opened the bottle, pouring himself a glass. He eyed Sam before deciding that maybe _he_ could use a glass too. "Here."

Sam took the offered drink and briefly wondered if the glass was clean before knocking back the amber colored liquor in a single gulp. "Thanks." He appreciated the burn of the liquid as it coated his insides with courage.

"So why did Bobby send you to me? Who am I looking for?" Rufus drained his own glass and refilled it. Sam couldn't help but notice that he wasn't offered a second glass.

"A friend of mine was taken…and I don't know by who or why. But I do know he's in danger." Sam inhaled and prayed to god that this man could help him.

"You sure he didn't just get sick of looking at you and take off?"

Sam couldn't help being offended by the comment. "Yes. I'm sure."

Rufus shrugged. "Just asking. So this guy, he gotta name?"

"Dean Winchester…and his son Emery."

Rufus nodded. "Okay. Well, give me a few hours and let me see what I can come up with." Sam made no effort to leave. "You got a place to go?"

Sam shook his head.

"Yeah, I thought not." Rufus exhaled slowly. "There's a couch in the other room and a television from the early eighties. Only gets three channels, but I got a dvd player…and some old movies. Make yourself comfortable kid." He stood up and headed into another room off the kitchen and Sam scrubbed his hand down his face.

Sam was startled awake when a hand pushed his legs off the couch and he had the distinct feeling of falling. "Son of a—"

"Kid, you need to let this guy stay gone." Rufus said as he sank into a chair off to Sam's right.

"What?" Sam queried as he ran his hands through his hair.

Rufus shook his head. "This Winchester guy…he's bad news. Let him stay gone."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know anything about this guy do you, kid?" Rufus tossed back another drink of the scotch.

"I know enough. What'd you find out?" Sam found that all exhaustion drained away at the thought of learning something real about Dean.

"This Winchester guy…he's attached to the mafia in Chicago…and that kid? That ain't his kid…he's the heir to the whole mafia shebang." Rufus took another drink and then passed the half empty bottle to Sam. "He's an assassin kid…and he's wanted for the murder of the boy's mother…and at least half a dozen other grisly murders."

Sam felt all the air whoosh from his lungs. _Dean's a killer? That can't be right._ "I don't believe that." He stuttered.

"I can show you the arrest records and the police reports if you want…" Rufus paused and took a long breath before continuing. "But you don't wanna see those. What that guy did to that poor woman…it was sick. Like twisted sick."

Sam's whole world felt like it was crumbling in around him and found that he couldn't say anything. He couldn't have been that far off the mark about Dean…there had to be something that was missing in those files. Because Dean…the Dean he _knew_…couldn't do something like that. He'd seen the man's devastation when talking about Lisa…he'd loved that woman. And Emery? Dean would never hurt that kid. So what was the truth? He didn't know, but he was sure as hell gonna find out.

XXXX

**Chapter 14**

_Comet Star Motel_

The drive was uncomfortably quiet as the road rumbled under the wheels of the car. The son of a bitch was smoking too. He was _smoking_ in Dean's baby and he if he hadn't already been determined to kill the bastard he'd be at the top of that list now. The guy blew smoke out the opened window and then tossed the butt out onto the passing countryside. The only thing that was making this worse the fact that Emery was in the other car and Sam must think that he abandoned him.

"That's a $300 dollar ticket." Dean growled and he readjusted his hands and glanced in the rearview mirror. The other vehicle was several car lengths behind them and he could see Emery in the front seat. _He shouldn't be in the front seat._

"Mind your own business and just keep your eyes on the road." A sudden jag in his ribs had him grimacing in pain and anger.

He wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel more tightly and clenched his jaw. The only thing he could picture was a bullet through this guy's skull. Dean inhaled slowly, he thought he'd left that part of himself behind…_okay, I prayed that I'd left it behind._

"Take this exit."

"Why?"

"The suns dropping you idiot and I don't fancy sleeping in this piece of crap all night."

Dean slowed and took the exit, he glanced in the mirror to make sure that the other car did the same. "You realize you're insulting an American classic, right?"

"Whatever. Next motel you see, pull over." The man pulled his cell phone out and dialed a number. "Hey, it's me…we're pulling over for the night. Yup. Two rooms, you keep the kid with you and I'll stay with Winchester."

"I want to see my son." It was more of a growl than anything else.

The other man sighed and placed the muzzle of his gun against Dean's shoulder. Honestly, dean thought it was a threat, but the resound of the weapon and the searing pain informed him otherwise.

Dean's face screwed up in agony as the bullet ripped through his shoulder. He couldn't even tell if it had exited and to make matter worse it was his right shoulder. Since he wasn't left handed, that was a fucking problem. Plus, he was getting blood all over the leather and it was a real bitch to get out.

"That wasn't a warning…that was a taste of what's to come…and what we're authorized to do to that sweet little boy."

"Could've just asked…you didn't need to shoot me. I'm a quick study, even got a gold star once." Dean swallowed the pain and debated on trying to staunch the flow of blood. He groaned and pulled off at the Comet Star Motel.

"Shut up. God, Winchester…no wonder they want you dead."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at that. He'd known that the family would want him out of the picture. But it always sucked to hear that out loud. Lisa's last day flashed before his eyes and he blinked several times trying to clear the last image of her. Tied to a chair, the blood dripping from her head where something had been driven into it over and over again. The small cuts all over her body showed that she's lasted for a long time before they'd finally seen fit to end her suffering.

The only thing that would have kept the woman holding on like that was if they'd threatened Emery.

XXXX

Sam stared out the window of the truck as it powered down the highway. The sun had set and the temperatures were dropping the further North East he got. And he had nothing but time. Time to think about Dean's hands on his body and the smile that lit up the older man's face when he laughed…_oh God, his laughter…_

And then there was Emery. The little boy that Dean so obviously worshipped and judging by Emery's response, the feeling was mutual. They were a happy functional, well sorta, family. Sam inhaled and yawned as the clock ticked past eleven thirty. He saw the signs for a motel up ahead and took the exit. Every fiber in his body wanted to keep driving, but his sagging eyelids and the fuzzy feeling in his brain told him it was time to stop.

The glowing comet with a long neon tail and a vacancy sign made him pull into the manager's slot. Sam was just peeling himself out of the seat when he spotted a car that looked an awful lot like…_No…it can't be_.

Sam hunkered down and moved slowly toward the black Impala and the blue sedan. "Son of a bitch." He whispered as he looked into the car. It was empty, but something on the front seat had him gasping. A large red stain against the leather of the driver's seat made his concern jump several notches to flat out fear. Someone was bleeding…a lot. And that someone had been driving Dean's car.

His gaze swept the row of closed doors, two of them had the porch lights on. A shadow moved in front of the curtained window and Sam dropped to his knees. The door to room 5 opened and a man stepped out to light a cigarette, Sam only thought about his actions for half a second before he threw himself onto the man. His fist connecting with the man's chin, he went down like a felled tree.

Sam pushed the door open after dragging the guy into the bushes. He was starting to feel like a real badass…that is until he saw the blood on the floor inside the room as well. The man hadn't been injured, which meant that it was probably…Dean.

"Dean?!" He whispered loudly as he shuffled into the room. The water was running in the bathroom. Sam glanced around and he grimaced when he didn't see any sign of Emery…That was bad. "Dean?" He called a little louder and then pushed the door open.

Dean was leaning over the sink, staring intently in the mirror. His right shoulder a bloody mess as he dug at something in his shoulder, probably the bullet, Sam thought grimly. Sweat was running down his handsome face and it was screwed up in pain. Green eyes finally panned over to meet blue-green. His lips parted in a silent 'oh' and he looked away.

"Dean…what happened?" Sam's hands ached to touch the smooth flesh of Dean's back. If only to reassure himself that he was actually real.

Dean turned back around, his face masked of any emotion and he shrugged. Then the pain flashed across his eyes and he bit his lip. Sam's gaze dropped to the shoulder. "The bullet still in there?"

"No, I just enjoy digging around in my own shoulder joint." Dean regretted the snarky comeback almost immediately. Sam's face took on a wounded look and he stepped away. "I'm sorry Sam…it's been a shitty day." Dean looked around, "Where's my guard?"

"Out cold in the bushes…where's Emery?"

"Next room over." Dean turned back to the mirror and made a face before lifting his left hand to his shoulder again.

Sam's fingers covered the blood soaked skin and he stilled the movement before Dean could do more damage. "Let me help."

"Change of plans. Help me wrap it and let's get Emery." Sam started to argue and Dean held up his hand. "I'm glad to see you Sam…you have no idea how much. But the only reason I was digging at this is to keep from trying to kill these bastards."

"Okay." Sam wasn't going to argue. He wanted to help and he knew that Dean was right. That guy wasn't going to stay unconscious forever. He grabbed a white towel and tied a makeshift bandage around Dean's shoulder. It wasn't pretty, but it would work for now.

Dean pulled a shirt on and his lip pulled in pain as he wrenched his shoulder wrong. "Fuck." He growled as he buttoned an over shirt. It hid the blood and the white bandage.

"You gonna be okay?" Sam asked. His insides were twisting with all the things he wanted to say and the things he knew he couldn't. The desire to pull Dean into his arms and never let him go was so strong that he found it physically painful. He more than liked this mysterious, possible bad guy…he was falling love with him. "Can I ask you one thing?"

Dean tossed him a distracted look as he peered out the window, the guy was still crushing the bushes and the two cars were still in the lot. "Is this really the time for twenty questions, Sam?"

"Just one thing I need to know before I go any further." Sam stepped up and debated on turning Dean around. As it turned out he didn't have to. Dean turned on his own.

"What do you want to know?"

Sam gulped and pushed forward. He could forgive almost anything, but he needed to know if Dean had killed people. Had he killed Emery's mother?

"Lisa…" Sam tried to force the words out, but they wouldn't come.

"Did I kill her?" Dean's face darkened and he looked both and angry and sad at the same time. "No." He saw Sam's hesitation, he had another question. "Spit it out, Sam."

Sam licked his lips. "Have you killed other people?"

And there it was. It was the one question that Dean wouldn't lie to Sam about and the one question that would irrevocably change Sam's feelings towards him. Somehow, Dean hadn't thought that it would be this painful to let Sam go.

"Yes." He watched as a myriad of emotions passed across Sam's face in rapid succession. Everything from shock to disgust, revulsion, and finally loss. "I won't blame you if you leave…but please…" Dean stepped up and Sam jerked his arm away. Hurt reflected out of deep green pools as Dean stepped back. "Help me save my son."

A pair of bright blue eyes flashed in front of Sam's eyes and he knew that he couldn't leave that kid to this fate. Not for any reason. "Okay. Let's get him home safe."

"And then?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Here's the deal Dean, I'll help you get Emery and I'll help get these people off your tail…but then…" Sam's voice drifted off.

"We'll leave…"

That thought scared Sam worse than the thing he thought Dean might be. "I'm not saying that…just…" He swallowed. "…we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

TBC…

**Authors Note: **_"Dean carefully twisted the door of the room open. As he stepped inside he was assaulted by the musty smell of the room. That didn't make sense…not if Emery and the other guy had checked in. He looked back as Sam as he too slipped silently through the door, he nodded toward the beds and Sam immediately set himself at the base of the one closest to the window. Dean waited for a moment longer before flipping the lights. The room flared to life with yellow lights and both men gasped at the sight of the empty beds. They'd never even been slept in. Which meant that they had no clue where that bastard had taken Emery. Dean's knees buckled and he sank to his heels as the pain of failure crushed him." Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed, so sorry this has been so long. My work schedule got crazy, but I worked in some time for this. Thanks to: Mrs. Winchester, Gina Mark, Carolina888, redcheeks28, ajaali, redyellowgreenandblue, mb64, Miuda22, DearHart, and LeeMarieJack._

**Please Review: Let me know if you guys are still out there, I know I've been away.**


	15. Deans Choice

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 15**

_Dean's Choice_

Sam wasn't too keen on Dean ignoring what looked to be a gunshot wound. Those had a tendency of getting infected easily. This was a side that he hadn't seen in the other man before and frankly? It was a little scary. Not enough to make him want to walk away, but enough to make him leery. He followed the shorter man out of the room and watched in awe as Dean expertly picked the locked.

Dean carefully twisted the door of the room open. As he stepped inside he was assaulted by the musty smell of the room. That didn't make sense…not if Emery and the other guy had checked in. He looked back as Sam as he too slipped silently through the door, he nodded toward the beds and Sam immediately set himself at the base of the one closest to the window. Dean waited for a moment longer before flipping the lights.

The room flared to life with brilliant yellow lights and both men gasped at the sight of the empty beds. They'd never even been slept in. Which meant that they had no clue where that bastard had taken Emery. Dean's knees buckled and he sank to his heels as the pain of failure crushed him.

"Oh God…" His voice was small and lost. The broken tone in his voice was one of the most awful things Sam had ever heard. It was an utter and total loss…something that he'd never experienced before. But something that, it seemed, that Dean had dealt with far too often in his short life.

Sam gulped and hesitated before stepping forward and kneeling next to Dean. He wasn't sure what to say…they'd stolen Dean's son. He settled for gently placing his hand on Dean's knee.

"We'll get him back. They can't have gotten far." Sam's heart was breaking and he was scared. What the hell had he gotten himself into here? He didn't know much about Dean and what he had learned was terrifying…and exciting at the same time. He was falling for this man and he wasn't sure that that was a good thing.

Dean grunted and hauled himself to his feet. He was out the door before Sam knew what was happening. Sam scrambled up and followed just in time to see Dean grab the man from the bushes and haul him into the other room.

Blood was staining the makeshift bandage on his shoulder, but Dean didn't seem to notice. In fact, if Sam hadn't seen the wound for himself, he would be hard pressed to believe that Dean had been shot. The other man groaned as Dean threw him into the bathtub and twisted the cold water on. Once he pulled the tab and the water changed to a shower, the man sputtered back into consciousness.

"What the fu—"

Dean's fingers clenched around his throat and a fist slammed into his face before he was even fully aware. The blood blossomed on his face and his head was thrust sideways from the force.

"Dean…" Sam said as he stepped forward. The glare that those green eyes threw at him had him stopping and thinking twice. "…He can't tell us anything if you knock him out again." Sam opted for rational processing of the situation.

"He knows where Emery is." Dean ground out through clenched teeth. Sam wasn't sure if it was because of the anger or the pain. Either way at least Dean was listening.

"I know he does and we're gonna get that outta him…" Sam said softly.

"No you're not." The man said. "I'm not telling you shit, Winchester."

Dean tilted his head to the side and his face shifted from _listening_ to furious. "You know what I used to do for the family, right?"

The man nodded, an edge of fear in his eyes.

"Well, I'm going to turn my considerable skills on you, if you don't give me something." There was nothing pleasant in Dean's tone as he leaned in.

Sam took a step back from the fury that radiating off Dean. Whatever it was that he _used_ to do for 'the family' it scared the shit outta this guy. Which made Sam wish like hell that it wasn't necessary. There were some parts of oneself that once buried, should stay buried…and this side of Dean appeared to be one of those.

"Dean is this really necessary?" Sam asked as Dean pulled a blade from the man's boot and took a deep breath. Sweat was starting to pour down the man's face and he looked pale. None of this was make Sam feel comfortable. Dean's intense green eyes flashed over to him and he blinked several times as he struggled with himself.

"Yes."

After securing the man, Dean grabbed Sam's hand and led him outside the room. As soon as the door shut, Dean was pushing him up against the wall. The man's lips were pressed against his so quickly, that Sam didn't even have time to take a breath. He couldn't stop his own body from responding to the plump mouth of the shorter man. Dean's tongue shot inside his mouth when he tried to take a breath and he found himself pulling back in surprise.

"Dean…stop…can we just talk about this?" Sam leaned his forehead against Dean's and brought his fingers up to gently cup his face.

Dean was spinning out of his grasp before he had any clue what was happening. "Sam, they took my son. Now, I'm sorry that you're involved. I really am. But I can't let anything happen to Emery…or you."

Sam's gaze flashed up to the glistening face of the other man.

"So if you're uncomfortable with my methods…or me. Walk away." Dean's voice shook slightly as he gave Sam the 'out' that he hoped like hell he wouldn't take. "Because it only gets darker from here."

Sam's mouth worked for a moment before he managed to collect his scattered thoughts. He turned away and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. The night air was cool, bordering on cold. A shiver ran through his body and Sam had no idea if it was from the air or Dean. Something had changed in the last few weeks…he couldn't walk away from Dean now if he wanted to.

Sam was in love with Dean Winchester and a certain blue-eyed blonde-haired little boy. They felt like _his_ family and he wasn't leaving them to whatever the fates had planned. He could hear the rapid breathing behind him and he couldn't stop himself from turning and wrapping his arms protectively around Dean.

A shudder ran through the shorter man's body as his good arm wrapped around Sam.

"I love you, Dean." Sam said into the tufts of dark blonde hair.

Dean pulled back and stared up into the blue-green eyes. He hadn't heard that from anyone, other than Emery, in so long that it momentarily stunned him. Several moments passed before he was able to find his words. "Sammy…I'm not…I'm poison." He whispered as he leaned away.

Sam shook his head. "No, you're not."

He started to argue, but Sam held his finger up to Dean's lips and then he leaned in and kissed him softly. When Sam pulled back, Dean's eyes were hooded and he blinked several times to clear his head. "I love you too."

"Good, now that that's settled, lets find out where these bastards took our boy." Sam's words were strong and all inclusive.

"_Our boy?_" Dean questioned quietly.

"What's yours…is mine. And what's mine, is yours." Sam grinned. "That's generally how these things work."

"Okay."

XXXX

Dean stared at the mansion that was his home for the majority of his childhood. Memories of his father and his expectations were pummeling his brain and Dean wished he could hide from the judgmental assessment of his own mind. How much his father would hate what he'd become. What he'd allowed himself to become. Not that it was all his fault. John Winchester had brought an impressionable child into a very violent business and then he'd been killed, leaving that child to the mercies of these ruthless men.

Being smart had never been one of Dean's problems. In fact, it was just the opposite; he was too smart…he got bored easily. That had played right into the family's hands. They'd needed someone that wasn't blood and could be trusted to be unfailingly loyal…and that _was_ Dean down to his very DNA. That was until he'd fallen in love with Lisa. The Braedon family was at the pinnacle of the crime syndicate in Chicago and she'd been the only one that refused to be involved.

Lisa had gone to college and become a nurse. She was a 'healer' in her heart, not a killer. And that had appealed to Dean, he'd been helpless against the pull of her kindness and those amazing brown eyes. Then her family found out that she was 'sleeping' with the _help_…and she'd been told to end it.

What her father had failed to tell her was that if she didn't 'end' it…he would. Although, the man hadn't known that she was carrying his grandson at the time. He'd ordered Dean's death, but as it turns out…it's difficult to kill someone that has made their living at reading situations and then violently ending them. Dean slipped through their grasp, but at a terrible cost. Lisa got in the way, it was right after she'd had Emery…Dean watched as she died. He saw the moment that the life went out in her eyes and he couldn't imagine anything worse at the time.

As it so happens, having your son stolen from you topped even that horrendous moment. But this was giving him the chance to end this, once and for all. He only needed ten minutes with Lionel to finish this whole thing. And as much as Dean wanted to kill the son of a bitch for his involvement in Lisa's death, he knew that the important thing was to get Sam and Emery away from this city that was stained in the blood of the innocent. He swallowed as he remembered just _how much _of that blood he himself had spilled over the years. Looking back, he should've become a cop like he'd promised his father.

_I'd still have blood on my hands. But at least it would've been bad guys and not…_he let the thought drift away. Dean knew deep in his heart that he'd 'burn' for the things he'd done in his life. His gaze drifted to Sam, who was snoring lightly in the passenger seat. How he'd even been lucky enough to find him, Dean would never know.

A stray lock of hair had fallen across the bridge of Sam's nose and Dean reached up to gently push it out of the way. He marveled at the small mole near the other man's nose and how it added to the beauty of his face.

_How can one person be so perfect?_ He wondered silently. Dean pulled his fingers back and tucked them into his lap, returning his gaze to the house. His shoulder burned, reminding him that he still hadn't done more than dig the bullet out of his flesh. Sam had turned slightly green at watching dig into his own flesh with a knife. The wound looked more like he'd been skewered than a gunshot…at least now it did. He was running a fever and he knew it, so he was keeping away from Sam.

No matter how this turned out for _him_? The two people that mean the most in the world to Dean…were making it out alive. It was strange to add someone to that mix beside Emery. But the night he'd save Sam from that asshole in the bar had been the night that Dean's life would change.

Sam's fingers feathered over his knee and pulled Dean back to the present. "Hey, where'd you drift off to?" His almond shaped eyes were soft and concerned as he looked at Dean.

"Just thinking how this could've all turned out differently if I'd made different choices." The tone was harsh and cold and Sam furrowed his eyebrows at it.

"Dean, I know that this is awful. And that you would do anything to have spared Emery this memory…but if you'd made different choices, you never would've ended up in Texas." He pulled in a shaky breath. "And we _never_ would have met."

Dean inhaled slowly. He'd never considered that angle. _Would I give up meeting Sam to keep Lisa?_ He looked away when the answer was a resounding 'no'. He leaned across the seat of the Impala and kissed Sam on the lips. "I'd like to think that I would have found you anyways."

Sam smiled against his lips and then pulled away. Dean was hot. His skin was burning up and he was wincing in pain when he thought Sam wasn't looking. "Are you sure you're okay to do this?"

"Am I okay to rescue my son?"

Sam tilted his head to the side. "Not what I meant…are you going to be okay. At least until we can get you to a doctor?"

"I'm gonna have to be. Because I'm not leaving here without Emery." Dean's voice had dropped and become almost feral as he spat out the words.

"Okay…then let's go." Sam was out of the car before Dean could blink. He reached over and grabbed his father's knife and pulled his Taurus from beneath the seat.

"Okay then." He muttered as he hauled himself out into the cold air of Chicago.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** "_The bullets ripped through the plaster behind Sam's head and he ducked before one could imbed itself in his brain. He wrapped his large frame around the small boy and continued to make a dash for the door. Dean slammed a large man into a grandfather clock and the chime of the bells rang through the monstrosity of a house. Blood was pouring from the wound on his shoulder and his right eye was half swollen shut. Emery had stopped crying once Sam had him, but his big watery blue eyes were glued on his father."_

_Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter. Special thanks to mel0211, , superchiwo, need2no, Winchesters4Me, ajaali, mb64, janielkm, Gina Mark, Dark Lilith87, and the incomparable LeeMarieJack._

**Please Review: If you review, I promise to get another chapter up this weekend. Quid pro Quo.**


	16. Lost and Found

**Disclaimer:**_Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters._

**Synopsis:** _Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out._

_After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried._

**Warnings:** This is an unrelated AU story with **Male/Male** pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. **ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.**

**Chapter 16**

_Lost and Found_

Sam's eyes bulged as they moved silently through the house. _If that's what this can be called_. He thought silently. The architecture in the place reminded him of pictures of castles he'd seen as a kid. The rich dark wood that lined the hallways and the marble statures that stood guard over entryways were truly mind blowing. A part of him couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea that Dean had grown up here.

It was beautiful, sure…but it was also cold and disconnected from any feeling of love or family. He stayed silent as Dean held a hand up. Watching the stealthy way that the shorter man moved was reinforcing that there were still a lot of things that Sam didn't know about him. An argument could be heard coming from down the hall. From what Dean had told Sam about this place, that's where Lionel would be holding Emery. Which meant that it was a trap and they were walking right into it. But what choice did they really have? The bastards had Dean son.

Dean crouched lower and maneuvered around the corner, disappearing inside the edge of the room. Several male voices were now involved in the conversation and none of them sounded happy.

"Dad, he's gonna come after the boy. You know that! And he's gonna be pissed!" The voice was cold but emphatic. Another interrupted quickly.

"And we'll be ready when he does. Winchester is a grunt, he doesn't think and plan on his own. He's the product of what his father made him…a blunt little instrument waiting to be pointed at a target." This voice was deeper, with a hint of an accent. It also sounded older, which led Sam to believe it was probably Lionel.

Sam's heart ached that Dean was hearing all of this too. These men who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end and not the incredible man that he'd become. It was wrong. And it made Sam angry. He knew that he and his own father hadn't always gotten along, but the man had never made him feel like he was inferior. Squashed his potential before it even had a chance to develop.

"Well congratulations father, you've made us his target. That's brilliant." The third voice was younger and female. Sam wracked his brain, but he couldn't remember Dean mentioning that there was another daughter. Maybe he hadn't known…_no that's not very likely. Dean would've kept close watch on this family. Only way to keep himself and Emery safe._ Sam shook his head to clear his thoughts before he had to bust into that room and try and help Dean.

The first _pop pop_ of gunfire was his queue to get his ass in there. And as he rounded the corner into a hail of bullets, Sam found himself dropping to his knees and scrambling for the back of a large ornate couch. His gaze scanned the area looking for Emery and Dean. But all he saw was a flash of muzzle fire and the black leather of Dean's jacket disappear up some stairs at the back of the study.

"Winchester! You son of a bitch! You killed my brother…" One of the men took off at a sprint in pursuit of Dean. The girl was crouched near the desk in the corner and the other men were fanning out looking for any one else.

Sam swallowed hard and crawled across the floor in an attempt to get around the couch. He inhaled deeply and popped up firing his weapon at the only remaining man in the room. He managed to wing the guy in the shoulder, no real damage but enough to make the guy dodge and drop behind a large piece of furniture.

The pounding of booted feet had Sam surging to his feet and moving quickly toward the stairs. He took them two at a time and thanked his lucky stars that he'd been born with a long stride. That and his crazy obsession with running and the gym. He reached the first landing and slowed for only a moment before making the choice to keep going up. If he were an asshole that was holding a child hostage, he'd have that kid squirreled away somewhere far away from the action.

More gunfire ricocheted through the house and Sam's heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. "SAM!" The sound of Dean's cry almost made him answer. But if he did, then the men would know that he was still alive and moving. So he did one of the most difficult things he'd ever done…Sam stayed silent. A cry of rage followed the name and Sam knew that he was going to be going after more than just Emery tonight. But first and foremost, he needed to find the child and get him to safety.

"Come on out, Sam!" A man's voice ripped through the air and Sam sprinted up the last set of stairs. A closed door at the end of the hallway had him slowing and taking his time on the approach. Chances were there was a guard inside…and the kid.

XXXX

"You never should've come back, Winchester. All I wanted was the kid." Lionel grinned like the lion he was name for. His gray eyes flashing dangerously as he stared at the man held between two of his men. "But now you've made me kill in my own house."

Dean's green eyes flashed up at that. "I just want my son back." His shoulder was on fire and he was deathly afraid that the man was talking about Sam. Lionel would never kill his grandson, the heir to his empire. But Sam? He'd be collateral damage and the fact that he'd come with Dean would just make his death so much sweeter to the family.

"And I want my son back!" Lionel screamed. It was rare to see the man lose his cool…and it was generally followed by gallons of blood. "I want my daughter back!"

Dean cringed at the mention of Lisa. "I didn't kill her…you did."

Lionel rushed forward and slammed his meaty fist into Dean's face. He watched in satisfaction as Dean's neck snapped to side and he groaned when blood flowed from a cut above his eye. "You made me do it."

Dean spit onto the floor and raised his gaze to the man that had raised him. "No one makes Lionel Braedon do anything…that was all you." Another fist collided with his battered face and his vision swam for a moment. The man on his left yanked his arm hard and Dean couldn't stop the cry of pain. Lionel raised an eyebrow and stepped forward with a small smile.

"Did you really start this when you were already injured?" He reached out and pressed his thumb into Dean's bullet wound. Dean ground his teeth together in an effort to contain the pain. "You are such a pathetic waste of space, Dean. You always were." He pulled back and switched for the muzzle of his gun. The end was jammed into the wound and Dean screamed through clenched teeth.

"Arrrgghhh…" The man on his right yanked upwards and Dean felt his bad shoulder on the verge of popping out of the socket. Images of Sam and Emery were swimming through his vision as he struggled to maintain consciousness. Sam was in this house somewhere and so was his son. They were in danger because of him he had to fight. "I am what you made….me."

"Are you blaming your failures on me?" Lionel stepped forward and squatted down in front of Dean. He wasn't expecting Dean to lurch forward and slam his forehead into his nose. The satisfying crack of cartilage was music to Dean's ears. He pulled his arm out of one of the holds and swung with everything he had at the other. A moment later in a haze of pain, he was free. Dean dove to the ground and grabbed his gun.

XXXX

Sam pushed the door open slowly. His heart sang when he saw Emery sitting quietly watching television with a pair of headphones on. So that meant that he hadn't heard anything that was happening downstairs. Sam's gaze swept the room and he sighed in relief when he didn't see anyone in there. The guard must've gone to help when everything popped off in the study. He slipped quietly through the door and walked carefully to the child.

Sam placed a tentative hand on the kid's shoulder and Emery spun toward him. He was ripping the headphones off so fast that he pulled the end out of the television and transformers erupted into the room. Emery threw himself into Sam's arms, wrapping him in a hug.

"Sam!" The kid leaned away after a moment and started looking at the closed door. "Where's my dad?" His blue eyes were wide with fear and worry as he looked back Sam.

"He's here kiddo. I'm gonna take you to him." Sam hoped like hell that he wasn't lying to Emery. That Dean was okay…because as much as Sam wanted to be right there with the other man, he knew that Dean _needed_ him to find Emery.

"Is he okay?" Emery's small voice shook.

"I hope so." Sam wrapped the boy in his arms and grabbed a blanket from the bed, bundling him up before he peaked out the door. The area was clear and Sam moved through the hall like a ghost. His package was important.

XXXX

"That guy you brought…" One of the men he'd just laid out yelled after him. "He's dead…caught a round in the head! Didn't die right away though…he suffered…kept calling for you."

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. His body frozen by that confession. That couldn't be true…he hadn't brought Sam along just to have him killed…had he? His brain shut down and Dean turned back toward the guy. "You lie."

The man laughed…"Come on, Winchester. When have I ever lied to you?"

A lump formed and tried to cut off Dean's voice. He shook his head and put two rounds through man's head. He wasn't expecting another bullet to zing past his head or the second one that tore through his thigh. "Shit!" He gasped as his leg collapsed and he pulled himself behind some cover.

Another guard appeared from nowhere along with a tall shaggy haired lawyer. Dean's eyes widened at the sight of Sam and the bundle he was carrying. The man turned and fired at Sam and what Dean had to assume was Emery.

"NO!" He scrambled to his feet and charged. There was no time to think about the fact that Sam was alive or that they'd found Emery. He had to stop the hired gun from taking them out as a last act.

The bullets ripped through the plaster behind Sam's head and he ducked before one could imbed itself in his brain. He wrapped his large frame around the small boy and continued to make a dash for the door.

Dean slammed a large man into a grandfather clock and the chime of the bells rang through the monstrosity of a house. Blood was pouring from the wound on his shoulder and his right eye was half swollen shut. Emery had stopped crying once Sam had him, but his big watery blue eyes were glued on his father. The bloody wreck of a body that was his father. Sam's own eyes were wide with fear as he protected the boy. He tried to turn so that Emery couldn't see too much of what was going on.

"DAD!" Emery's voice rang through the house and Dean took advantage of the other guy's distraction to sent a bullet through the chest cavity…right where his heart was located. The guy dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Sam swallowed at the show of violence. They had to get outta here before more guards show up. Lionel was starting to get back up and Dean turned just in time to see it. He pulled the knife from his hip holster and spun back toward the large man.

"You're dead." Lionel spat through the blood.

Dean's body was shaking as he took at step closer to the man. "Not me…" He lunged forward and sank the blade into Lionel's stomach. The older man gasped and collapsed.

Sam didn't know if the guy was dead, but he knew that they needed to leave now. He went to Dean and tried to help him to his feet. Emery jumped down and went to his father. The kid didn't even notice the blood pouring from the numerous wounds on his body…but Sam did. The sounds of sirens could be heard from the outside and Sam was picking Emery up again and helping Dean into an upright position.

"Dean, we gotta go…now." Sam couldn't stop himself from placing a quick kiss on the sweaty head of the other man. Dean moaned something…but he didn't pull away from the contact.

"I know, Sammy…just give me a second." Dean started to move and after several faltering steps they made it to the stairs.

How they got out to the car was beyond Dean's knowledge. He couldn't remember much after hugging his son and seeing that Sam was bullet free. The larger man had carried the majority of his weight and then helped to get him into the back seat. Emery refused to sit anywhere but near his father. He kept pressing the blanket against the wounds.

"You have to go to the hospital, Dean." Sam said quickly.

"No. No hospitals…" Dean moaned. He had a name…one that he knew that they could trust…if he could just remember it… "Call Bobby."

"Bobby's not a doctor and he's two days away. Not an option." Sam said sternly as he cranked the heater in the car.

"Then try a man named Dawson Kensey…numbers in a burner phone in the glove box." Dean's voice was getting light…like he was on the verge of passing out.

"Who is he?" Sam asked as he pulled out onto the highway.

"Guy I used to work with…and a vet…" Dean's voice drifted off and Emery's quick intake of breath told Sam that Dean had lost the battle and he was going to lose the war if they get him to medical attention right the fuck now!.

Sam pulled the phone out and tried to ignore the soft crying from the backseat. He needed to think. He flipped the phone open and nearly threw it out the window when nothing happen. The rational part of his brain informed him that the battery was probably dead. But his anger was pumping full force now...he loved this man and he wasn't going to lose him on account of the lack of battery.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _"Dawson stared at the wrecked shoulder and the bullet wound in Dean's thigh. "I'm not a people doctor…and I do 'that' anymore. I'm legit." The guy was shaking his head. Dean was gonna die if they didn't stop the bleeding and get a transfusion going. But he didn't have the set up for this. The devastated look on the tall man's face, he'd said his name was Sam, but was it really? No way to know when the person was with Dean. A sudden gurgling sound had his brown eyes flashing over and he sprang into action when Dean's breathing stopped altogether."_

_Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter. They're not out of the woods yet and who was the female voice? It's all coming. Thank you to ajaali, jenjarfan, guest, jeniekm, need2no, mel0211, mb64, LeeMarieJack, DearHart, and Miuda22._

**Please Review: I said I'd post the next chapter and I did. Keep the reviews coming and I'll get the next one up.**


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